


The Cryptid of Midvale

by daskey



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, cryptid AU, midvale au, small town AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-10-05 10:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17323409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daskey/pseuds/daskey
Summary: Alex wants to find herself again.In the process of moving away from the ghosts of National City, she finds a lot more in the forests and the beaches of Midvale.She also finds Sam.——————cryptid au with a healthy dose of mystery, romance, adventure, and angst.





	1. hush

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the gremlin. you know who you are.

The problem is as follows: 

The people in Midvale are all batshit crazy. 

Alex didn’t believe it when she’d left all those years ago. She’d thought it was something that would fizzle and die out with the last of the old creeps out there, but she was so wrong. 

She slams the old handset down, very satisfied with the solid sound it makes as she does so, and props a hand up on her hip as she processes everything the nearly hysterical man on the other end of the phone had said. 

She hears a rustle, and glances at the other side of the office. Captain J’onnz is watching her, obviously waiting for her to explain as he sets his files aside. 

They’re working by the light of desk lamps at this point, the overhead lamp blew out a few days ago, and neither of them can be bothered getting Winn to fix it, not when it’s not really a priority. J’onn’s lamp casts deep shadows over his face, where wrinkles show his age. 

“Another person claiming there’s something shuffling about in their cornfields. Something human...  _ ish _ ,” It isn’t uncommon. J’onn knows that, and after Alex informs him of such he gives her a brisk nod before going back to inspecting his papers. 

She thinks that she might be able to get out of a needless trip for this one, but J’onn reads her hesitation in an instant. “You know you need to check it out,” 

“I know I need to check it out,” She sighs, already reaching for her holster. It doesn’t mean she can’t huff about it. She glances out the window, sees the sky just as dark as she’d expect, a few stars dotting through, peeking through the clouds. 

“Take a jacket out,” J’onn adds, and as an afterthought- “And the truck.” without looking from his papers. 

Alex huffs under her breath, shrugging on one of the bulky tan jackets, and grabbing a large flashlight off the shelf. “Yes,  _ Dad _ ,” she mutters under her breath, totally expecting him not to hear, but of course, she sees his eye twitch slightly, and she knows she’s been heard. 

“Stop wasting time, Lieutenant Danvers.” 

-

It’s colder than she thought it would be, and she reluctantly admits to herself that J’onn was right in suggesting she bring a jacket. She shoves her hands in the pockets, finds a whole lot of lint and a scrap of an old receipt. 

She grimaces, takes her hands out, tosses the receipt in the first bin she finds. 

The truck is parked round the back. It’s seen better days, but it still works. The light from a large, heavy moon helps her make her way around to where the truck’s parked without issue. 

She gets in. Starts it. Hears the engine roar, and warms her hands by the heater. 

Hot air comes out in splutters, in little puffs of slightly warm air. It’s an old truck, she can’t expect more from it, so she gives up and pulls out of the lot. 

It’s one of those nights where the stars are partially obscured by thick clouds that drift overhead. It’s not dark though, she can see the road ahead as she heads out of town, even with the fading yellow headlights on the old truck. The moon is up and full, partially hiding behind the cloud cover as it follows along, watching her as she heads on the gravel track towards the farm where the mysterious figure had been spotted. 

Her mind wanders in places like this, it’s only natural. The truck hits a rhythm as it attacks the uneven road that would almost be soothing if it didn’t make her bones rattle. 

This was miles away from where she used to be, and what she used to do. Driving a cruiser at twenty over the limit when chasing a perp down the highway. The city lights blurring into a dizzying mix of colours as shapes, blurring together as they raced off to a scene. The thrill of being undercover, the bustle and buzz of the precinct. Working with a partner who understood her better than anyone else did, who knew her better than she knew herself - 

Darting across her vision, she sees something in the middle of the road. 

Her body jolts forward as she hammers onto the brake, and the truck comes to an abrupt halt. She nearly collides with the wheel in front of her, but she catches herself at the last minute, heart racing, eyes blown wide from the shock. 

The rabbit faces the truck, eyes lit up by the headlights. It blinks once, before darting off into the bushes by the side of the road, gone from view. 

She still has a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and it takes a few seconds of deep, calming breaths for her to get her heart rate back down. To push through that feeling of dread, the kind that grips at her lungs and makes her feel like her rib cage is too tight. 

“Come on, Danvers. Head in the game.” 

She’s got no reason to be afraid, she rationalises as she makes her way up to the farm. There’s going to be nothing out here - there’s never anything out here. Aliens don’t abduct cows, there are no cryptids in the cornfields, things don’t jump out of the shadows to attack the Lieutenant on the night of the full moon. 

The stories have wormed their way into her head again, and she resents the fact that now they're colouring the way she's going about her job. Her eyes scour the cornfields as she passes, keeps an eye out for red eyes in the pastures. When she sees the squat little farmhouse and the rusted old silo, she parks near the house, and takes a moment to pause after pulling the handbrake. 

The truck idles. The lights are glaring right onto the side of the blistering weatherboards, but the curtains of the farmhouse don't move, they stay still, there isn't a light on inside. 

There's no sight of the old man who called. 

She's fumbling the keys, arm reaching out to the torch tossed on the seat beside her. The engine cuts out, as do the lights, and she's in darkness, eyes adjusting. 

"Let's see what it is," She mutters to herself, and isn't that a promising site? Don't they say that's the first sign of madness? 

She opens her door, and her boots hit the ground, as does her heart when she feels that the air is still and cold, but there's a rustling noise, something rummaging through the cornfields. Something  _ big _ . 

She clicks on the torch, and directs it towards the source of the noise. The cone of torchlight illuminates quivering stalks, and she’s at the edge of the field, when she notices something by the ground. 

She squats down to get a closer look at the imprint in the tilled soil. A footprint, rather fresh to her judgement, but then again she doesn’t know much about tracking. 

Whoever stepped in the dirt had been heading into the field, but she knows that heading into the cornfields at night is a terrible idea. She’s not superstitious of course, but it’s a dumb idea. She doesn’t feel like getting lost in the cornfields when there are reports of suspicious activity. 

She listens out for more rustling, but it doesn’t come. Peering through the stalks, she sees nothing. 

With a huff, she’s off towards the front porch of the squat old farmhouse. The floorboards creak, and she clicks her torch off for the moment, shoving it under an arm so she can knock on the door. 

Three sharp knocks, and she’s leaning in, but the words on her tongue are almost the wrong ones. It stings a little, that it’s still with her after all this- although it hasn’t been that long. She clears her throat, and focuses on her surroundings. The cornfields, and from here she can see a track heading past the fields, through the property. 

“It’s Lieutenant Danvers, Midvale PD,” She calls, and waits. Hangs back a little, squaring her shoulders, ready to help. 

No response. 

Not even a twitch of the curtains. 

She leans back a little more, taking her torch in hand again, and she’s ready to go around when she catches a glimpse of something in her periphery. 

Instinct has her turning around, looking into the night. She can’t see in the dark, so she swings the torch around. 

Her torch catches on something, the light hits it and it shines back for an instant but then its off down the path, a blur of movement so fast her eyes can barely keep track of it. 

She thunders down the porch towards the truck, kicking up gravel as she throws the door open, clambers in, and starts it up. 

Her headlights turn on, and the truck skids as she throws it into drive. It’s big, it’s real big. She can see it up ahead, it’s faster than the truck, that struggles to get over this track smoothly. Every bump sends her teeth chattering, her hands grip the steering wheel as tight as she can, but she’s not letting this one get away. 

She catches glimpses of it. A flash of white - white  _ fur? _ Long legs. It looks almost like a wolf, except it isn’t. 

It’s too big, body lanky and almost out of proportion, and then the shadows are rapidly approaching.

The trail is coming to an end. Her headlights catch on the trunks of the forest trees. 

She barely stomps down on the brake in time. She rockets forward as the car comes to a complete stop, the back wheels swinging out a bit as she does so. She narrowly avoids a head-on collision, and it takes her brain a moment to comprehend that fact. 

Then  _ it  _ looks back at her. 

The eyes flash from the headlights again, and she is shaken to her core, because  _ what the hell  _ is she doing chasing ghosts out of the cornfields and into the woods. 

She can’t move. 

She holds her breath. 

It stares at her with those now glowing eyes. 

She realises now that it is very much wolflike, except its face is elongated in a strange way, a narrow head making way to a very long muzzle. 

As soon as the thought to grab something — her phone, to take a picture, or her gun, to protect her from those  _ very threatening teeth _ — it turns tail, and lopes into the forest like it knows it is going somewhere that Alex can’t follow. 

-

“You went to the Johnson’s?” J’onn asks as she walks in. He’s already back in his civilian clothes, ready to go home for the night. 

He waits by the door with his arms crossed, waiting for Alex to speak. He can tell that something’s up with her, because Alex is rarely shaken by anything. At least - she likes to imagine she isn’t. There’s a wall in the office with a large map of the area. Alex had thought it was old school when she first walked in, but now she could see how it was useful. 

She grabs a marker and a scrap of paper, and writes down two words. 

_ Confirmed sighting.  _

J’onn doesn’t say anything, until she goes to pin it up on the wall, along with the missing people, the traffic incident hotspots, and the patrol routes. 

“The-“ 

“The Cryptid of Midvale,” She sees the moment it sinks in, and J’onn reels back just a bit, and she scrambles a bit to justify it. “I saw it, with my own two eyes, J’onn.” 

“Are you sure? You’re the one who was always so adamant that it was just a-“ 

“I know what I saw, don’t you dare imply otherwise,” He’s quiet after she cuts him off to defend herself. 

“I wasn’t going to. I trust your judgement. What I don’t trust is the idea of a boogeyman being the cause for all the crimes in this town,” He levels Alex with a look that sets her on edge. It’s got too much  _ pity  _ for her liking. “Feels like too much of an easy way out if you ask me,” 

She knows what she saw. She holds that memory in her mind, of the large furred creature, standing still, caught in her headlights. She wishes she’d taken a photo, because she doesn’t blame J’onn at all. It sounds far-fetched, and coming from  _ her _ , she can understand why J’onn would doubt her. “I know you’re thinking that I’m just saying this because of my Dad-“ 

At the mention of the man, J’onn’s expression shifts. “That was the last thing on my mind, Danvers. You are your own officer,” 

He pauses after that, lets the silence settle between them. The kind of silence that only followed the mention of a dead man; Alex’s father, and one of J’onn’s trusted friends. 

Alex wonders if J’onn sees her going down the same path. If this is her undoing, if she’s doomed to follow in his footsteps, right into her own grave. 

“I just want you to remember, we’re not here to catch Bigfoot. We’re here to enforce the law, and protect the people,” He says, and Alex can tell that he cares. 

But she doesn’t need a surrogate father right now. “I know, J’onn. I’m going to find out if Johnson’s okay,” 

J’onn’s mouth draws into a hard line, and he gives her a nod before stepping out into the night. The conversation is over. 

Alex is left almost alone in the station. She can tell there’s a few people milling about somewhere — maybe two, but they must have left when the discussion started. 

She keeps things casual as she walks over to the map, stares out over it with a hand on her chin. This latest sighting, confirmed in red ink, is one of many written down on old post-its, on scraps of paper. This latest sighting is her own though, and that’s what has her sold on this idea. 

She knows what she saw. She doesn’t take it down. 

* * *

She keeps on losing time, and that’s how she can tell that something’s not right. 

It starts simple. Something spooks her; she sees something that makes her pause, hears a loud noise that sets her on edge, then she’s in another place. On the other end of the room, or flinching at the fact that the person who entered the room unexpectedly is now in her face. 

Maybe she’s finally run herself dry. She was on the brink there in the city, she’d left because the stress and the workload had started to take its toll, she had aching muscles, the slightest noise would set her off, wake her up in the middle of the night, her mind would never  _ rest.  _ She’s uprooted her life, left her few friends and work colleagues, took her daughter — her life, her reason for living — with her, and moved off to Midvale, a town between forests, farms, and the sea, that just so happened to be in need of someone with skills like hers. 

Finance jobs don’t exist in the city alone. There was an opening in accounting and she was snapped up in an instant. The job is a lot slower than she’d expected for the town’s only accountant, she spends a lot of time talking to old locals rather than doing any hard-hitting number crunching, and she relishes in the change of pace. 

But then it starts again, with her waking up on the back porch one morning, with a very confused Ruby peering out through the kitchen window at her. 

She knows she sleeps, but it really feels like she doesn’t, it feels like she drops off the planet for a little while before coming back in the wrong place with a splitting headache. 

Sam has taken herself to the doctors before, and it always ends the same way. 

She comes out empty handed, with more questions than answers. She’s fine. She’s healthy—  _ extremely  _ so. She’s perfectly fine, and while she should be happy about that, she can’t help but feel like that diagnosis is  _ wrong _ . 

Moving to Midvale was her last-ditch attempt at making things right, at fixing herself. 

“Mom?” She hears the creak of the screen door, and Ruby’s stepping out just as Sam realises the state she’s in. She’s got yesterday’s laundry all about her like she’d raided the washing line for the clothes she’d forgotten - the clothes she’d  _ forgotten _ \- that had gone slightly damp overnight. 

She lifts her head up and meets Ruby’s worried eyes, and a sharp pain shoots through her neck at the motion, so she brings herself back down slowly, wincing all the way, and closing her eyes instinctively. 

She feels the vibrations through the deck as Ruby walks over, gets to her knees beside her. Ruby’s hand touches her cheek. 

Her voice is small and there’s a tremor to it that makes Sam feel even worse, because Ruby is  _ worried  _ about her. “Why did you sleep outside?” 

“I don’t know,” It takes everything in her to sit up. Her bones ache, she didn’t think that it was possible for bones to ache but here she is, lying on her back porch in the early morning in pain that she hasn’t felt before. 

Ruby’s hands hover about her like she’s thinking of helping but doesn’t know quite how to go about doing so. She settles for wrapping her arms around Sam when she’s sitting up properly, and Sam tries to hide her pain by focusing on her daughter. 

“Do you think you’re sleepwalking?” Her voice is heartbreakingly soft again, and Sam moves to bring Ruby’s face between her hands. 

“I don’t know, baby.” She says, and the furrow between Ruby’s eyes grows. 

“Well... you should tell someone. Just in case you are,” 

 

Ruby has her backpack, her shoes are tied and Sam’s sure she packed something healthy in her lunchbox. The sun has risen properly in the sky now, it’s well into the morning but Ruby lingers in the doorway, holding onto the frame as Sam packs her own lunch. 

She narrows her eyes at her daughter, who leans heavily against the doorframe, not budging from her position in the door. 

“You’ll miss your school bus,” Sam prompts. Ruby doesn’t leave. She isn’t trying to get out of a school day, Sam is certain. She puts down the butter knife, and rests her hands on the counter, waiting for Ruby to explain why she isn’t getting ready to leave. 

“I’m worried about you. I thought you’d be okay here, but... it’s coming back, isn’t it?” 

Ruby is  _ perceptive.  _ She stares at Sam, waiting for a response, and Sam is stunned into silence. Cold dread works its way up the back of her neck, and she can’t bear to look her in the eye and  _ lie  _ to her face like this. 

She knows herself, and she knows  _ it  _ is coming back. 

But she doesn’t know what it is that causes this, and that in itself scares her more than anything. 

She knows she can’t lie, but she turns the tables back on Ruby. She shouldn’t have to worry about her mother losing her mind, she shakes the thought from her mind and rolls her eyes, trying to let the tension roll off of her. 

She goes to the door where Ruby is standing, and puts her hands on her shoulders. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s  _ my  _ job to take care of  _ you,  _ and right now what matters to me is your education,” It breaks her heart to see her little girl like this, when did she start to worry about Sam in the same way Sam worried about her? It didn’t make sense, and she didn’t deserve this. 

Ruby cast her eyes over her shoulder. The front yard stretched quite a distance— larger than any green space they’d seen in National City— but the road remained empty. The post hadn’t even been delivered yet. “It’s  _ one  _ sick day. There are hundreds of days of school which I could use to catch up,” 

She doesn’t want to give in too easy, but the thought of having Ruby around makes her feel safer in a way. This is worse than what had happened in National City, in a way. She’d woken up on her back porch, who knows what would happen during the day? 

Nonetheless, she doesn’t let Ruby know she wants her around. If Ruby doesn’t want to stay, then she’ll let her go. Sam doesn’t want to  _ force _ her to— what, take care of her? Supervise her? 

“You’ll be bored,” 

Ruby rolls her eyes, and stands up a little straighter. “I won’t be,” 

She’s being selfish. Sam shakes her head, levels Ruby with a stern look. “You really should be going to school, Rubes,” She says in her Serious Mom voice, and Ruby huffs, slouching and groaning-

“But Mom-“ 

She pushes at Ruby’s shoulders, shepherding her onto the front porch. Ruby’s sneakers thud against the old wood as she takes very heavy steps towards the edge of the porch with a grumble. “No buts, I want your butt on the school bus when it comes around, or I’ll kick it all the way to school, you understand?” Sam says, and that’s when Ruby turns around. 

“I really am worried, but you know. Whatever,” She scrunches up her nose, shakes her head, and that’s when it really sinks in that Ruby isn’t just doing this for an easy out. 

There’s a crack in Sam’s facade at Ruby’s concern. “I’ve got work to go to, anyways. Unless you want to follow me around and-“ 

Ruby lights up. “See the world of small-town accounting?” 

“It’s boring-“ Sam starts, but Ruby cuts her off excitedly. 

“You’re really going to let me come to work with you?” She’s nearly bouncing on her toes. 

Ruby’s eagerness at the prospect of following her around town was surprising, and it made Sam preen a little, straightening up and fighting a proud smile. Who knew accounting was cool again? “... only if you promise to behave,” 

“Hell yeah!” She fistpumps in celebration and hollers, before she shrugs off her backpack and tosses it back into the house. 

“Ruby!” Sam shouts, and Ruby turns back to look at her with a sheepish expression. 

“...Heck yeah?” 

Sam facepalms. That wasn’t what she was - oh whatever. 

-

Most days start with organising paperwork, and that she can do from inside her house, with her feet up on the coffee table and a cup of coffee in hand. 

Today she tries to do things a little differently, because she has an audience. Instead, they go to the rarely used office upstairs in the old cottage. 

Sam sits at the old wood desk, running her finger along the marks in the wood as she stares out the window. She’s just coming off a phone call now, looking out as a trio of birds fly from an old pine into the grey clouded sky. 

As she hangs up, she wonders why she doesn’t spend more of her working time in here. With books stacked in the shelf, the big chair by the desk, and that view of trees behind the front neighbor’s house, it’s peaceful. Tranquil. 

Ruby turns around as she hangs up, pulling out one of the books from the shelf and flicking through it. “Who was that?” 

Sam stares down at her phone, coming back to reality for a moment. Johnson — she’d met with him a few days ago to help him with his taxes. There’s something unsettling about someone that she’d just spoken to suddenly disappearing. She wasn’t particularly close to him or anything like that, in fact she doesn’t really like him much at all. He’s a little too friendly with her, but a client is a client, and she’s dealt with worse in the city. 

Nonetheless, it’s strange, and she isn’t sure how to feel about it. 

“We have to go by the police department. I need to drop off some paperwork,” 

 

Sam isn’t sure of what to expect when she walks in, but it sure isn’t a young man on a stepladder, fiddling with something on the ceiling. 

The door closes behind her and Ruby as they enter, and the noise startles him. He wobbles for a second, and a high pitched squeak escapes his throat, but he rights himself at the last moment, eyes bugged wide, staring over at Sam. 

Sam herself is half reaching out to steady him, but he gets down from the ladder, a confused look on his boyish face, pointing a finger at Sam until something clicks at the sight of Sam’s slacks and button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the bundle of papers she holds under one arm. 

“Oh, hey! Accountant?” He asks, and Sam gives him a nod and a smile. 

“Yes,” 

He shakes his finger at Sam for a moment, thinking of something, nose wrinkled as he blushes. “Nice, nice. Cool. You saw nothing, alright? Don’t tell Alex I almost-“ He takes a deep breath, wincing at himself as he stumbles over his words. Sam figures that this Alex is a coworker, or a supervisor, something like that. Anyways, he is currently very embarrassed, and trying to save face, and Ruby is trying to hold back laughter. “I didn’t almost fall. I had that. I totally meant to do that,” 

“Sure you did,” It’s barely over a whisper, but Sam still shoots Ruby a look. Ruby raises her eyebrows and gives a half-shrug, a smug expression on her face. 

It’s then that someone walks into the room. Short-cropped dark red hair, a lithe figure, a furrow between her arched brows. She takes stock of everything with intense dark eyes that seem to linger on Sam (or is that her own wishful thinking?) before flickering back to the red-faced young man. “What was all the noise about, Winn?” 

“Nothing!” He all but squeaks, straightening himself up and smoothing the non-existent wrinkles in his shirt. “The accountant is here, Alex. This is Miss-“ He gestures at Sam, but Sam’s focused on the woman in front of her. 

She’s smiling-  _ Alex  _ is smiling at Winn in an amused yet distrustful way, like she knows she caught him in a lie. It makes the corner of her eyes soften, and her dark eyes nearly sparkle. 

Sam’s eyes are drawn to the way she purses her lips, holding back a smile before those dark eyes turn to look at her again and Sam doesn’t know why but a slow and steady smile spreads on her own face, and she’s holding out a hand with a confidence that she didn’t know she even had. 

“Arias. Samantha Arias, but just Sam is fine,” 

And the confidence fizzles out, because that came out cockier than intended. 

To her relief, either the woman didn’t pick up on that, or she read her intentions already and was shrugging her off without making a big deal of it (or, she was reading too far into things, and the officer was really just doing her job) “Lieutenant Danvers, but you can call me Alex,” Alex has a firm handshake, and while she has authority in the way she stands, her hands are warm, as is the smile on her face, and the look in dark brown eyes when she glances over to the side at Ruby, who had been unusually quiet. “Thanks for coming. And I don’t think we’ve met either,” 

Ruby preens under the attention, understandably, and that’s when Sam regrets bringing her, because she saunters up to Alex and holds out her own hand, stretching up to make herself seem taller. “Arias. Ruby Arias,” She says, a perfect imitation of her mother, and Sam resists the urge to facepalm. She thinks it can’t get worse than this, but of course Ruby just has to level the curious Lieutenant with a matching stern, official look and say - “Intern,” 

Alex blinks, a little taken aback, and after shaking Ruby’s hand she laughs, a light and brief thing. She finds her  _ funny _ , which is a relief to Sam. She plays along, crossing her arms, and Sam tries not to get too distracted by the flex of biceps beneath pale skin. “You look pretty young for an intern,” 

Alex’s eyes flicker to Sam, and damn it - she’d let her eyes wander a little too much, and she hoped the cop didn’t notice. She scrambles for something to say, and blurts out -“She’s not my intern. She’s my daughter.” 

When she smiles, it somehow sets Sam at ease, and makes her nervous at the same time. The corner of her mouth quirks up, and she glances between Sam and Ruby. “I figured as much. The last names, and the resemblance...” 

She shakes her head to try and rid herself of this fog in her mind. It helps a little, but it probably also makes herself look strange, so she pulls herself up straighter, talks a little sharper to try and cover that up. “Right, I’m sorry. You wanted the files-“ 

Alex switches into business mode as well, clapping her hands together. “Yes, the files. We shouldn’t go through them out here, let’s go ‘round to the interrogation room-‘ She points at one of the doors towards the far side of the room, and Ruby all but gasps. 

“Cool, you have an interrogation room?” Her eyes go wide. 

“Yeah, but I reckon I should chat with your mom alone. We’ll be going through a lot of paperwork and I need her to be focused on that,” Ruby looks a little bummed out by that, but Alex glances about, and her eyes settle on Winn, who had nearly blended in with the background for a moment there. “Winn’ll keep you company though, right Winn?” 

He’s on the spot, and somehow he gets even more flustered when put under the Lieutenant’s steely gaze. “I’m not- I don’t know how to babysit?” He stammers, and it seems like Alex will be kind, when she cracks a smile, and grabs him on the shoulder. 

“Google it,” She says, before squeezing his shoulder with just enough pressure for him to squirm out of her grasp with a squeak. “Besides, she’s not a baby. She’s at least- twelve?” She makes the judgement after a quick glance in Ruby’s direction, and Sam is surprised by her perceptiveness. 

“Nice call,” 

But of course, Ruby has to interject with a very snooty - “Actually I’m almost thirteen.” 

Sam doesn’t know what to expect. It certainly isn’t for the Lieutenant to be  _ amused _ . “Sorry.  _ Almost  _ thirteen. Show her how we work the traffic cams or something. I’ll be out in a few,” 

That is the first of a number of meetings, and Sam knows it is the start of something, even though it is woefully short. 

Alex guides her in. 

She tries not to look too curious, but there’s a certain kind of  _ novelty  _ to being in a place like this. It’s like the ones she’s seen on TV, with a mirror is most definitely a one-way mirror, facing into a room next to it. There are some chairs, made of metal. There’s a table, with a loop of steel that probably is made for handcuffs to be attached to. There’s a cage around the light bulb. 

She doesn’t take a seat, because she doesn’t know which one is hers. She glances back at the Lieutenant to see her by the door, hands on her hips, that amused, lopsided smirk back on her face, this time directed at her. 

“This is probably your first time in one of these, isn’t it?” She says, arching an eyebrow, and Sam is immediately on the defensive, because the way Alex asks makes her feel like a bit of a nerd. 

“Who says I haven’t committed a crime before?” She counters, and immediately wishes she hadn’t opened her mouth because — really? In a police station? Bragging about crimes she’d never committed? Is she an idiot? 

Alex tilts her head to one side. Lucky for Sam, she doesn’t seem to buy her bluff. “Your file, unless you’re telling me that the records are wrong, in that case, is there anything you’d like to say?” She tugs out a chair, sits down and rests her elbows on the table. 

“Uh- no. I- I haven’t-“ She decides not to answer, and instead takes the seat across  from her, bringing her bag up onto the table next to her. 

Alex laughs, and it’s a light and airy thing that cuts through the tension that Sam has accidentally created. “We’re not here to talk about your lack of a record. We’re here to talk about your  _ accounting  _ records,” 

The rest of the meeting goes otherwise uneventful. Sam brings out what she has on Johnson. They discuss what they can, but eventually, Sam’s grumbling stomach brings a laugh to Alex and utter mortification to Sam, and an end to their meeting. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you for so long,” Alex says, and her eyes sparkle as she holds a hand up to her mouth, a weak attempt at holding in any remaining bouts of laughter. 

“No, I’m sorry for- I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast,” 

“I’d offer you coffee here, but the precinct’s coffee machine is terrible,” 

Sam perks up at the prospect of coffee, but her heart falls again when Alex delivers the news. They stand up, and Alex walks her over to the door. She’s just about to open the door, she’s turned the handle and everything, when she turns to look at Sam over her shoulder. 

Her eyes are wide and hopeful, and Sam can’t help but compare her to something  _ cute _ . Like a... baby seal. Or those tiny antelopes with big eyes. 

She’s not thinking straight enough to come up with a good enough comparison, and her heart is beating hard enough to break right out of her rib cage at this point, and she can’t quite tell why. They’ve paused in a moment, Alex is  _ stalling.  _

“We could go out and get coffee when I’m not on a shift? Or I could just comp your coffee for the day,” When she ducks her head, her hair falls out from where it was swept to the side, and she runs her fingers through it to sweep it back, meeting Sam’s gaze again with big doe eyes. 

“I’d like that,” Sam breathes, and as Alex expression starts to go back to something she can only describe as her ‘Lieutenant’ face, she clarifies quickly, shaking herself out of her haze, closing her eyes so she can focus on clearly enunciating her words. “The first one. The coffee with you. I don’t know the places around here enough, and you look like you know what you’re talking about,” 

She opens her eyes again, and sees Alex’s smile. It lights up her whole face, and Sam can’t help but respond with a smile of her own. 

“Great. Well- I’ll probably have to be in contact with you soon, anyways. To get clarifications, and anything else,” She says, and opens the door, and the swell of sounds and the reminder of other people brings Sam crashing back down into the present, where she’s meant to be helping with a missing person case. She's pulled out of orbit, and back down to earth, and she gets ready to go about the rest of her day. 


	2. ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things start picking up. people ask questions, and only get more questions in return.  
> sam and alex show each other their scars.

The road is a little damp. It’s coming in on fall again, days are getting shorter, nights are colder, and it isn’t just the newness of her move to Midvale finally wearing off. 

She cuts through the night, riding the twisting, turning roads, and finding the house on the cliff easily, like the way home is instinct to her. Even after ten or so years away, nothing’s really changed, so it’s almost too easy for her to make her way into the driveway to park her bike near the house. 

She dismounts and gets inside, seeing her breath in front of her. The novelty of it catches her for a moment, she breathes heavy, and watches the little cloud disperse in the breeze before she unlocks the front door, and steps inside. 

The warmth hits her first, then the smell of dinner still lingering from the kitchen. There’s a dim glow from the living room, where her mother probably is. 

Alex only hopes she didn’t wait up for her. 

She’s taking her boots off by the door when Eliza calls out to her. “Alex? Is that you?” 

“Yeah,” Alex calls back, working the last boot off, nearly overbalancing before she holds onto the open door to steady herself. 

“Close the door, you’re letting the cold in,” 

Of course she does, but she rolls her eyes and closes the door a little firmer than necessary so the sound carries. She wins the battle with her shoes, shrugs off her coat, and tosses her bag in the corner, running a hand through her hair to do something to her helmet hair before meeting her mother in the living room. 

She’s underneath the throw on the sofa, with a scientific journal in one hand, pen in the other, glasses perched on the end of her nose. There’s a cup of coffee on the table, still half full. 

She didn’t wait for her for dinner, her empty plate sits on the table behind her cup of coffee. Alex is on her way to the kitchen anyways, so she picks it up, and heads towards the sink to deposit it. 

She gets a head tilt of acknowledgement, but her mother remains focused on her reading. 

She’s working by half-light, doesn’t see the need to turn on the rest of the lights when she’s taking her dinner out of the microwave and tossing it into the microwave. 

It starts to spin, and Alex remembers a different time. 

National City. Leftover takeout from the night before. The clink of beer bottles. She wasn’t alone back then, back there. 

But she is now, and that unsettles her somewhat. At least this meal is home cooked. 

And is she alone? 

She glances towards the living room. Eliza is very much focused on whatever she’s reading, but at least she’s got someone around. She’s got people, she talks to Kara every week, she’s got Winn. She’s got J’onn. 

There were plenty of people too. The people she knows now, thanks to her job as a small town cop, far outweigh the number of people she interacted with regularly in National City. It’s a small town thing, you hang around the same people every day, you get to recognising faces and before you know it- 

“I met an interesting person today,” Alex says, and she usually isn’t someone to fill silence with mindless chatter but Sam  _ is  _ on her mind. 

Eliza lowers the journal slowly. Alex is poking around at the vegetables on her plate when Eliza raises both her eyebrows. “Oh? Define interesting.” 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” The microwave starts to scream, so she takes out her plate, grabs a fork and settles on one of the stools by the counter, half-turned towards Eliza as she starts on her dinner. 

“They can only go up from here. The last time you told me you met someone interesting, they were a criminal with crude facial tattoos,” 

She sees her mother’s eyes directed her way, ever judgemental, even from this distance in the dark, over the pages of the journal she’s reading. She gestures with her fork as she speaks through a mouthful of food. “Okay but in my defense he was, by definition, interesting. That ink was really eye-catching in all the wrong ways,” 

Eliza rolls her eyes at Alex’s deliberate lack of manners. She knows Alex is just doing that to try to get a rise out of her. “Tell me about this new person though, you have me intrigued,” 

“She’s-“ 

“Oh, so it’s a  _ she _ ,” Eyebrows are raised, and a conspiratorial smile spreads on Eliza’s face-

_ “Mom _ ,” Alex scolds. 

“Sorry, continue.” Eliza waves a hand in her direction, pretending to find her journal interesting for a moment. 

“I had to call in the accountant to bring in some intel for our missing person case,” 

“Oh, you mean Sam? She’s great, isn’t she,” She gives up most of her pretenses at the mention of the accountant, which is interesting. Alex knows that the accountant is new to town, newer than she is, so it is intriguing to find out that Eliza knows her better than she does.

“You know her?” 

“I’ve seen her around town, with her daughter. I approve, by the way,” Her eyes glimmer with quiet amusement. 

“ _ Mom _ , she’s helping with an investigation,” 

“Hm,” Eliza hums, and turns back to paying attention to her journal like nothing ever happened. 

-

“We’ve got another missing person report,” J’onn says before she leaves, a few days after the first. 

It’s not unusual to have small disappearances clear up in a few days. People are funny like that. They can just up and leave. Grab their things, or even leave without them, and run for the hills. They usually come back. It takes a few days at most. Some, a few weeks, but they return. 

These feel stranger though, they feel different. Alex goes with a few of the other officers to take a look at the old man’s farm after getting a warrant. One of his sons accepts it, he’s out of state so it takes some work to contact him, but he’s just as concerned and agrees to help out however he can. 

They get into the house and see that nothing has been packed up. His wallet and keys are still in the house, gun still in the locker, a glass of cheap whiskey has been poured and the ice has melted and turned it to the colour of weak piss. 

He’d been prepped for a night in. 

They go round the back of the house and see that the door’s closed, but not locked. Not uncommon for a place like this. 

It all seems odd, that an old man like him could just up and leave without telling anybody. Alex knows him, has seen him before. One of those mildly obnoxious old men, who spoke glibly and without consequence. Before, she would have wished for him to get his comeuppance but she tries to keep things professional, and focuses on finding anything that might help. 

She didn’t think much of it until there was another disappearance. The hairdresser, a rather sociable woman who was well known by a lot of the women in town. It’s called in by the school nearby, who say her son had been fending for himself for the past few days. He’s with a relative now, which Alex is relieved to hear. 

It’s  _ strange _ , because again, there had been reports of a disturbance. Their house was on the edge of town, a smaller two-bedroom that backed out onto the forest. The son had apparently heard his mother leave out the back door, and she hadn’t come back. 

That may have been what happened to the farmer, and it has Alex thinking about that  _ thing  _ she saw when she was driving out around the back of the farm. An apparition, or a creature — she’d seen  _ something _ . She’d chased it. It had  _ looked at her _ . 

A third report comes in later that week. Alex isn’t put on the case. She’s called in on the fourth. 

J’onn stands at the great big map of town, with his hands on his hips. He cuts a powerful stance, one Alex emulates as she stands beside him. 

No matter how old Alex gets, no matter how strong she gets to be, she doesn’t think it’s possible for her to be exactly like J’onn. She’s always looked up to him, ever since she was a little girl. It was his quiet strength, and his wisdom, that she could only dream of achieving someday. 

He’s concerned. The map is covered with notes from each case, and all seem to read in much the same way. A disturbance. A missing person. A sighting of something lurking outside, just before the person went missing. 

“If you can contact that accountant,” J’onn says out of the blue, and Alex all but jumps to attention, “and oversee the collection of evidence from friends, neighbors, colleagues, anyone in relation to these four people,” 

“I can do that,” she says. J’onn does not turn to look at her. 

“I don’t want this to cause alarm,” he says, but it seems to be more to himself than anything. 

Alex glances at the map. At the potential connections. These people all live in the same bubble. Go to the same grocery store. Know the same doctor. This is the problem with getting to the bottom of this, everyone is connected. “You know how these people talk, J’onn,” 

“It’ll get out before long, but we want to avoid a panic as best we can,” 

“Is there a reason to panic?” 

“No, because we’re going to get to the bottom of this, and bring these people home,” 

He says it with such conviction, that Alex can do nothing but believe it. 

-

“Samantha Arias?” 

The voice carries over the half-empty bar, and she nearly jumps out of her skin. She feels her grip on her consciousness slipping like it always does, but it’s sluggish this time, and while she’s drunk she’s got enough of her wits about her to keep herself from blinking out of reality for the moment, and she levels the Lieutenant with a half-hearted smile over her shoulder. 

She can’t hold it for long, because she’s taken by the leather jacket, the tight jeans. the woman is out of uniform, and she looks  _ good.  _

She makes her way around the empty tables over to her, sliding up onto the stool next to her and giving a half-nod to the bartender. She’s familiar enough with the place, she fits in with the aged wood and the deer head mounted on the wall and the rusted road signs up behind the bar. 

Sam can feel her eyes on her, she’s not outwardly staring but she’s keeping Sam in her periphery as the bartender prepares Alex’s drink. 

“Something the matter, Lieutenant? If you need your finances in order you’re going to have to make an appointment,” she doesn’t mean to be short with her, but it comes out harsher than intended. 

“I’m not here to get my finances sorted,” Alex doesn’t seem to be phased. She takes it in stride, nodding her head towards the tequila shot in Sam’s hand. “What’s the occasion?” 

She’s forgotten that she bought yet another shot. “I want to drink,” she offers as explanation. 

Alex raises an eyebrow. The bartender gives her a pint of cider, and she thanks him before redirecting her attention to Sam. “... and your intern?” 

“Is out with friends,” she picks at the lime wedge in front of her. “I don’t have friends,” It’s sad, but it’s the truth. Sam is sociable to an extent — the only people she considers friends are back in the city. 

Alex doesn’t pity her. She doesn’t pat her on the shoulder and give her a little hug and encourage her to meet people. She’s not like the other people she’s admitted that to, the other moms at the school, who all clucked under their tongues and spruiked their hobby clubs. 

She just tilts her pint towards Sam in a silent gesture of solidarity. “Well... I don’t know if we’re friends or not, but I’ll drink with you so you don’t look so alone,” 

It’s a kind gesture, and for the first time in a while, it’s what she actually needs. It’s enough to sober her up for a bit, she wasn’t expecting for Alex to get it, to understand, to empathise with her rather than feel sorry for her. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually this...-“ she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to shake herself out of the rut she’s put herself into. “Like this. I’ve just had a bad week, and I’m tired, and I thought this would help but-“

The dry chuckle Alex gives her warms her chest better than the alcohol does. “Trust me, getting drunk doesn’t help when you already feel like shit. It just makes it worse,”

Sam knocks back the shot anyways. She didn’t get any salt, but she chases it with the lime, somehow avoiding making a grimace as it rolls down her gullet, burning along the way. 

Alex seems quietly impressed, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches her with those brown eyes. 

Sam puts the shot glass down, and the bartender hears the noise, raising his eyebrows at her. 

She looks at Alex, who is waiting for a response. She lets the warm feeling dissipate until it’s replaced by that hollow feeling yet again, and it just proves Alex right. “Yeah. It’s making it worse,”she waves at the bartender. “Can I get some water, please?” 

“That’s better,” Alex says, sipping at her cider. Sam feels the need to defend herself, and she doesn’t quite understand why. 

“I’m not like this. This isn’t me. I don’t get drunk in bars,” 

“It’s a one-off. Don’t make it a habit,” Alex says with a half-shrug, and again, it feels good to be  _ understood  _ for once. “What’s got you like this anyways?” 

She doesn’t remind Sam of all the reasons why she should be sorry for herself. She just waits for her to respond, sipping at her cider while she taps her foot beneath the bar to the beat of the song on the jukebox. 

Sam’s somehow lucked out on the drinking partner lottery, because she’s ended up with a woman who not only is serious eye candy, she’s good to talk to, and that’s probably why Sam opens up so much. 

Either that or the tequila loosens her tongue. 

“I moved here to get away from the city, and all the stress, but it feels like the stress is just following me anywhere I go. It feels like I’ve gone from feeling under pressure some of the time, to feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin all of the time.” 

Alex’s brows draw in as she listens to Sam ramble. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but have you gotten that checked out? It sounds serious,” 

“Every place I’ve ever been to has just said it’s normal for a person at my age, raising a kid on my own,” Sam turns her eyes to the glass of water that has miraculously appeared- right, she’d asked for it. She’s drunk, and she’s unloading her life story on this woman who probably doesn’t need to be hearing her sob story. “I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it,” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” Alex says, and did her voice just go softer? 

“No- no. I’m sorry I started talking about it. I don’t know anything about you. Ah... so you’re engaged?” 

The question comes out of left field, and strikes Alex like a shard of ice straight to the heart. She doesn’t get why Sam would come at her with a question like that until she follows her eyes, and sees her looking at the ring on her finger, the simple band with the single diamond, glinting in the light. 

It’s her fault for not taking it off. Habit has her wearing it, even in the months past their breakup. It used to be a comfort thing, keeping it on despite all that happened, but now it feels heavy on her finger, too tight like it's almost stopping the blood from flowing through her finger. 

She twists it about absently, glancing over at Sam, and Sam reads the expression on her face and shrinks back slightly. 

“I was. She left me,”  

“How could someone...” she starts, but shakes her head, dismissing the thought, and she lets out a bubbly laugh, like she's trying to lift up the mood with humor. “Sorry, I know it’s not my place but, really. You’re like the full package,”

“I what?” 

“You are! You’re smart, and funny, and badass...” Sam’s wild gesticulation almost knocks Alex’s drink clear out of her hand, as she tries to gesture at Alex’s whole body. “I’m sure you have women falling over themselves to get you, you’re a lesbian daydream,” 

She’s relieved that Sam took her coming out in stride, but she’s so far gone that Alex isn’t sure of the reason behind her over enthusiastic reaction. “That’s nice of you to say but... I wish that was the case.” 

“The ladies of Midvale don’t know what they’re missing out on,” she says with a solid nod, like she’s satisfied with what she’s said. She brings the cup of water to her lips. 

“Let’s stop focusing on how single I am, and let’s talk about  _ you.”  _

Sam’s eyebrows raise as she drinks, Alex almost would describe the look as cute as she brings her cup down, fumbling to wipe at her mouth before she responds. “There’s nothing to say. I’ve never been in a relationship,” 

“Wait, never?” 

“Nope. Not unless you count a week-long fling with my close friend as a relationship then...” 

“So Ruby’s dad was-“ 

Sam lets out a short laugh. “Oh no, I was never in a relationship with him. I was young, and lonely, and got strung along by a guy two years older than me. I don’t even think he liked me, let alone loved me but it doesn’t matter. It was a dumb mistake, but I got Ruby out of that so...” she trails off in her rambling when she realises Alex is sitting there, paying attention, and hasn’t changed her attention to anything else. “Why are you asking me about my relationships, anyways?” 

“I... actually didn’t mean to. I wanted to talk about you and your work. When did you start working here?” Alex shakes her head, and reaches for her pocket. She has to focus on the information she  _ needs  _ right now. 

Although a part of her seems to be begging for her to pry more. To find out about the woman, because that’s still police work, isn’t it? Forming a profile of an informant. She’s done that before. Asking Sam about her relationships... it wasn’t for her own curiosity, it was for the good of the case. 

Sam is a bit confused by the question, but she answers after a moment. “A couple of months ago, why?” 

Alex pulls out a piece of paper, the four names of the missing people, sliding it over to Sam. “I was wondering how far back your records go. If you’ve got any information on these people,” 

“Are they linked to the guy who disappeared?” 

“No... well, possibly,” Alex says, and Sam’s nose scrunches as she reads the names on the list. “They’ve also been reported as missing,” 

Alex could have worded that better, or lead up to it. It strikes Sam in a sudden and very visible way, she brings a hand to her mouth in shock as she gasps. “Four other people. Oh my god,” 

The tone has now very much shifted. Gone is that playful discussion, as Sam brings her fingers to the paper, touching the names like she needs to convince herself that it’s real. 

She turns and looks up at Alex again, concern filling soft hazel eyes, and there’s a slight tremor in her voice as she asks, “Did you find any... any bodies-“ 

“No bodies. Just disappearances.” Alex says with a shake of her head, and while she settles a little after she lets out a breath, Sam is still tensed. 

She taps repeatedly at one of the names on the list with a long index finger, thinking of her words before she finally speaks. “Mrs Williams. She has a kid, in Ruby’s grade. I did her taxes a few weeks ago, I don’t know how helpful that’ll be,” 

She glances up at Alex for approval, and Alex gives her a smile. Sam returns it, albeit hers is slightly strained. 

“That’s perfect,” Alex reassures her, “Hey, just... I know you have a kid, too. It’s nothing to worry about, you’ll be safe, and so will Ruby. We’re on the case,” 

Sam collapses further in on herself. She’s getting tired, or she’s weighed down by something, Alex doesn’t quite know. What she can tell is that her presence isn’t helping as much as it could be. 

“I’ll leave you to your drinking, just... here.” She takes a coaster, flips it over, and glances about the bar. The bartender is busy, so he doesn’t notice her boost herself up a bit so she can lean over, feeling behind the bar for something. 

Sam does notice, and immediately grabs her by the belt loops to drag her back, an admonishment on her tongue. She tries to make words but she’s tipsy and it comes more as an odd whine. 

Alex slides back to the right side of the bar with a crooked grin as she twirls a pen she swiped. Sam glances over to the bartender, who still remains oblivious. 

Alex scrawls her number on the back of the coaster, along with her name. Not Lieutenant Danvers, just Alex. It’s more personal, and Sam is again left with an odd feeling in her chest. 

“My number. If you hear of anything, or even if you just need someone to talk to. I know things are scary right now, I don’t want you to feel like you have to face them alone,” 

“You do this for all the sad single moms who rock up in bars to drink alone?” 

“Only the pretty ones,” she says with a wink, and Sam is left speechless, wondering if she really said that— or if she’s starting to hear things. “Get home safe, okay?” 

-

She would have headed to her own house, but she’s not quite feeling like heading to an empty house. She goes back to Eliza’s, and pretends to herself like she’s made a choice. 

Eliza is already asleep when she gets there, so she focuses on getting her leftovers quietly, making sure she stops the microwave with one second left, and she tries to eat without letting the cutlery hit the plate. 

A startlingly loud buzzing disrupts the silence, and she’s scrambling for her phone before it vibrates right off the bench. 

She doesn’t even check the name before she answers. 

“Lieutenant Danvers,” 

“ _ Hey, I know you just gave me your number today and it really hasn’t been that long since we talked but I really just- I wanted to-“ _ she sounds nervous and Alex can imagine her expression right now; hazel eyes wide, worrying her lower lip for a moment as she tries to think of what to say next.  _ “I don’t know why I called,”  _

“Just need someone to talk to?” 

“ _ Something like that. I can’t sleep- oh, I didn’t keep you up did I?”  _

Alex glances down at her plate, and decides not to tell her that she’s eating dinner at this late hour. “No, it’s fine. I’m just finishing up my dinner now,” 

“ _ Oh. Okay,”  _ Sam's voice goes soft. Alex can hear her breathing on the other end, deep and carefully measured. She’s trying to calm herself down, but it doesn’t seem to be working. 

“Tell me what’s going on. I’ll probably be done by the time you finish telling me,” 

“ _ Okay, yeah. Well... I can’t sleep. The other night I went to sleep in my bed, and woke up on the back porch. I’m worried that the same thing will happen again, but I’ll go further and won’t be able to get back.”  _ Alex is basically finished by now, so she stands up and presses the phone against her ear with a shoulder as she cleans off her plate.  _ “I locked the doors, but I read that locking the doors doesn’t really help because your brain still remembers how to unlock the doors while you sleep. I’m worried I’m going to leave Ruby alone, or I’ll leave the door unlocked and someone might get in-“  _

She puts her empty plate down and grabs the phone properly when she hears a note of hysteria in the other end. “Hey. Hey Sam, slow down a minute. You said you sleepwalk?” 

_ “Yeah. It’s just...”  _

“And it isn’t a side effect of the drinki-“ 

_ “I really don’t make a habit of that, honest. Today was just... one of those days, you know?”  _

She wonders what it says about herself, that she can distinctly remember several instances where she’s woken up in places she didn’t expect to be in. 

Sam isn’t that kind of person. 

“I get it,” Alex says. “If it’ll give you piece of mind, I can drive by later this evening. Have a look around, make sure your doors are locked, and that nobody’s lurking around your house.” 

There’s a pause. Alex wonders if she’s been too forward. 

_ “... that’s a bit much to ask for, isn’t it? I don’t want to inconvenience you, especially after you paid for my drinks tonight-,”  _ she’s tentative, like she’s afraid of sounding too eager, and Alex is relieved to know that she isn’t asking too much this time. 

“It’s not too much to ask. I’m offering. I’ll be around in a few,” 

  
  


She picks up her keys and her helmet. She knows the way to Sam’s house, the address is familiar, closer to town than the Danvers’ family home, but still just on the edge of the woods. 

It’s not too far from her house either, and she does have her own place, closer to her work, but her mother’s cooking is better than any frozen meal, even though the company can be just as unappetising. She figures she might as well swing by Sam’s on the way home, do a few loops to make her feel safe, when she sees her mother walking over, a frown set deep on her face. 

“Where are you going so late?” She asks, and she’s not mean about it exactly, but it brings back a familiar 

“I’m just doing a patrol,” Alex explains, and Eliza raises an eyebrow and rests a hand on her hip. 

She doesn’t buy it. “Without your badge?” 

Whoops. Alex gives her a tight-lipped smile, and picks it up with a shrug. “... forgot it,” 

“Sure. You be safe-“ She’s halfway through saying something when Alex’s hackles rise, and she’s immediately on the defensive. 

“Mom, no.” She shoots, and Eliza’s confusion makes way to skepticism again. Great. 

“Safe on the road. What did you think I was going to say?” She draws back a little, and a silence sets in as they stare at each other. Alex’s cheeks burn, and she hides it by tugging on her helmet, flicking the visor down and turning back to the front door. 

“Goodbye, Eliza,” She says, and her mother rolls her eyes, walking back into the house. 

 

She plans on just riding her bike past the house. It’s a nice house, with pale weatherboards and a well kept front yard, some flowers here and there, double storey, there’s a chimney, a crooked letterbox. 

She plans on just riding past, but something catches her eye. She slows down, and lets her bike idle in the street for a moment, headlights illuminating the slow-moving late evening mist. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but not from the chill. 

Something’s watching her. 

It’s instinct that has her turning around, glancing behind her. There's nothing there, the neighbors are all asleep, curtains drawn and lights off. An owl calls out into the night. 

But she can't shake that feeling that something's out there,  _ watching her.  _

She pulls up into the driveway, despite her better judgement, and takes off her helmet. Both that little delay with Eliza —  and the detour she’d had to take around an accident on the main road — have slowed her down. She hopes Sam isn’t sitting around, worried, waiting for her. 

She hopes Sam hasn’t had time to wander off. 

The engine cuts off, and so does most of the light in the street. The only thing that’s left is the bluish light from a single street lamp, affixed to a telephone pole. 

There are no porch lights on. There’s nothing out here, it’s her and the sound of her boots crunching on gravel as she takes off her helmet, and cold air startles her awake. 

There’s another low call from the owl. With it comes the rustle of leaves from the trees behind the house. The woods. 

The tall trees are black silhouettes that reach up to strike at the sky. The rustling continues from there, from behind the house, and Alex’s breath leaves her in a cloud as she decides to call Sam. 

She fishes her phone out of her pocket, and the sudden glaring brightness of her screen has her panicking, and she quickly lowers her brightness, glancing around- 

There’s still nothing. 

Is she really getting spooked for no reason? She tries to shake herself out of it. She’s faced scarier things. 

She dials her number, bringing her phone to her ear. She thinks she’s calm, but she can see her breath in front of her as every quickened breath comes out, and it feels like someone, somewhere is judging her. 

_ “Hello, this is Samantha Arias. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!”  _ her cheery voice cuts through the night, and Alex is right about to head to the door to check up on her when she glances at her phone and realises something. 

It’s late. Extremely late. Past three AM. 

There’s a very real chance that the other woman has actually fallen asleep. 

She sighs, and closes her eyes before tucking her phone into her pocket. She decides it’s better that she doesn’t disturb the other woman, and she grabs her helmet again, preparing to put it back on. She turns back to her bike and-

_ There _ . 

She sees it. 

Right before it darts back into the forest. It’s  _ just  _ not quick enough to avoid her attention, and she can see properly as the white tail slips behind a tree and disappears from sight, that rustling following it as it makes a speedy retreat. 

“Shit,” 

The cryptid. 


	3. listen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sam and alex go for that coffee.   
> for the case, of course. there are people missing after all.

She calls Sam the next day, asking to meet up to talk about what’s going on in town. They need to discuss the missing people anyways. 

She can’t shake the feeling that Sam knows more than she lets on. That she’s connected to this in someway. To the disappearances, or to the ghostly white wolf that has haunted Midvale for decades. She decides to ask her, but she knows she needs to be sensitive about it. Either Sam knows something and is involved, which in that case, she doesn’t want to  _ become a missing person _ , or she doesn’t, and she’ll be very confused if Alex is poking around, saying she’s a part of it. 

There’s something about the names, the people. Johnson had been a really creepy old man, and Sam had said he’d made more than a few passes on her when she was helping him organise his superannuation. She’d been flippant about it, and Alex figured she was used to dealing with unwanted attention with how attractive she was. 

Objectively speaking, of course. 

She’s in the office, and things are slow. Winn isn’t around, he’s at his other job, volunteering at the local radio station. For all that he stumbles over his words when speaking to actual people, he’s not bad behind a microphone as he reminds people that they’re listening to  _ ‘Midvale FM, your best local radio station,’.  _

More like only radio station. 

He’s also a damn good technician. She’s seen him fix just about everything, and although she rarely compliments him she knows he knows he’s good at what he does, and that’s why he’s known around town, and generally well-liked by everyone. She misses teasing him when he’s not around, she doesn’t have a direction for her restless energy. 

She could focus on the case files she has open in front of her, but paperwork has never been her thing, and she’s already got it memorised by now. The names, addresses, last known locations, all those facts are locked in.

So calling the accountant is a nice distraction. Her finger hovers over the contact she’d made in her phone - because of course, they’re not  _ friends  _ or anything but she’s seen her a few times, she’s ridden over to her house in the middle of the night. There’s...  _ something,  _ so her name in her phone is  _ Samantha Arias,  _ and not just Sam. 

To remind her that she’s still a person of interest in four missing person cases. 

To remind her that she shouldn’t be getting involved with an informant, no matter how tall and pretty she is. 

To remind her that she’s Samantha Arias, accountant, mother, and  _ potentially  _ someone with information on the cryptid of Midvale. 

She calls her up. Sam answers on the second ring, and Alex beats her to the first greeting. 

“Hello, Ms Arias?” 

_ “This is she, although I’m pretty sure I said you could call me Sam, Lieutenant Danvers,”  _ her voice is already bright, and wide awake so early in the morning. It brings a smile to Alex’s face already, and she leans back into her seat a bit. 

“Well, if we really are on first name basis then Alex is fine,” she casts her eyes around, there’s nobody else there, some had just left for a patrol. “I’m calling unofficially anyways. Mostly unofficial. I owe you a coffee, and-“ 

_ “You need to take a look at what I know?” _

“Yeah,” Alex says, and she’s ready for rejection, but-

_ “Well, that’s fine. I’m pretty free at around eleven today, actually,”  _

“Great. I’ll text you the address,” she tries not to smile too much at that, and instead focuses on keeping her tone nice and neutral, official. Her ‘Lieutenant’ voice. “Thank you, by the way,” 

_ “You don’t need to thank me. You’re already buying me coffee!” _

-

Alex rocks up early. It’s fifteen minutes to eleven, and she’s wearing her good jacket. J’onn knows she’s taking the morning to get some evidence, so not only is she going to have coffee on this nice sunny morning, she’s also learning a bit about the missing people. 

She tucks her keys into her pocket, and she feels a little lighter as she walks. It’s a nice day out, a little chilly from the air that comes from over the sea. The place she picked is just near the water, up on a hill, it’s windows overlook the beach, the patchy clouds that try to cover the pale blue sky. 

There are a few people in there already. She hears the door chime as she swings it open, and she expects to be choosing a table, but she spots a figure by the far windows, staring out to sea. 

Of course she’d be early. 

She could go over there, go and say hi, but she doesn’t. She looks at her for a moment, the soft white sweater she wears, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, her hand, which rests just on the windowsill next to a steaming cup of coffee. 

She looks lost in thought, or searching for something. Either way, Alex doesn’t want to bother her, so instead she walks over to the old lady behind the counter, and nods her head in Sam's direction. 

“Anything she’s ordered is on me,” 

Betsy’s been working here for as long as Alex has been around to remember the place. She’s seen Alex grow up, seen her awkward punk phase and everything. She pauses in what she’s doing — wiping the countertop — and rests a hand on her hip with a knowing smile. 

Wait. She’s putting things together the wrong way, judging by the look in her eyes, and Alex backpedals. “No, Betsy, it’s not-“ She starts to wave her hands, and the woman’s sudden burst of laughter bellows through the space, and she rolls her eyes at Alex’s antics. 

“Sure, hun. I think I can count the times  _ you’ve  _ paid here when hanging out with  _ friends.  _ Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing. My lips? Are sealed.” 

Alex knows for a  _ fact _ that Betsy will talk. She’s the core of their small town, of the ‘original’ Midvale residents who lived there long before the influx of people drawn in by the idea of a seachange. Betsy knows  _ everyone _ , and everyone knows Betsy and the fact she’s terrible at keeping secrets. 

She gives Alex another sugar-sweet smile which wrinkles her eyes considerably, but there’s nothing Alex can really do but give her a nod, because Sam had turned around at Betsy’s loud laugh. “Put it on my docket,” 

“Alright, Lieutenant. Don’t worry, I’ve got it. Holler if you need anything,” Betsy throws the cloth over her shoulder, and scribbles something down on a note before giving Alex a nod. 

She goes to meet Sam, who has apparently chosen a table. She stands until Alex gets close, her eyes following Alex’s approach, her smile getting wider as Alex gets closer. 

Alex can probably count on one hand the number of people who have been excited to see her. Nobody’s really ever looking forward to a visit from a cop, except of course, Sam Arias. 

“You’re early,” is the first thing that leaves her mouth, and Sam chuckles as she goes to squeeze into the booth. 

“I had nothing else to do this morning so...” She pauses when Alex sits across from her, eyes landing on a clock that lies on the back wall, behind her shoulder. “You’re also early,” 

Sam’s eyes land on her and Alex feels like she’s been caught out in something here. Her cheeks burn without her authorisation, and she huffs a little under her breath. “Didn’t want to be late,” 

A waitress comes by with a pot of coffee and a cup for Alex, since Sam already has her own. Alex asks for two slices of whatever cake or pie is the best today, and the blonde waitress smiles and nods, writing down their order before heading off. 

Sam stares after her for a moment, before glancing around the space. Alex wonders what she sees — the retro decor, the mint green uniforms, the posters on the walls. 

“This place is awesome. I’ve been to some pretty nice coffee shops in my time but...” 

“To get coffee and a view like this in National City, it’d probably cost you double for just a cup,” 

“Yeah, it really is quite the place.” Sam says, pausing to take a tiny sip of her coffee. Her nose wrinkles a tiny bit, and she lowers the cup delicately. “And although — don’t tell Betsy — the coffee is terrible-“ 

Alex stifles a laugh. “Oh it really is,” She and Sam share a smile. 

“The view more than makes up for it,” Sam says, and there’s a glint in her eye. Her eyes don’t leave Alex’s. 

“That’s basically life in Midvale, in a nutshell.” Alex replies, glancing down into her coffee. 

“You’ve lived here all your life, haven’t you?” She’s curious, but she’s trying to hold back, Alex can tell. “Born and raised?” 

“This is my hometown, yeah. I left for college, then got a job in the NCPD, so I stayed up in the city for quite some time,” 

“So you’ve moved back home,” She asks, and Alex nods. 

“My father died when I was just about to leave for college. I almost didn’t go, because I thought my mom would need me. She didn’t. She wanted me to go, wanted me to get my degrees, to find a job, to settle down, that sort of thing. She knew I’d never be able to do that here,” 

“And yet you came back,” 

“Maggie leaving-... it made me realise how much it hurts to be alone, and now that my sister’s moved out of home as well and started her own thing, my mom’s all by herself. She’s probably fine on her own, but I didn’t want to stay in National City after the breakup anyways. I needed an excuse for a seachange,” 

“Again. Maggie doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Sam says lowering her head slightly so she meets Alex’s eyes before she has a chance to look away, and there’s an emotion in her honey-brown eyes that makes Alex’s heart constrict in an odd way. 

She doesn’t know what it is, if it’s the mention of Maggie and the memory of all that pain, or if Sam is implying something. She can’t quite understand what it is, and to top it all off, Sam makes things all the more confusing for her when she reaches over and rests her hand over Alex’s. 

It’s a soft, tender motion. Meant to comfort her. Sam’s hand rests over her own, fingertips brushing over Alex’s scarred knuckles, over the back of her hand. Her skin is so soft, her hand is warm and it covers her own. 

But then the moment is gone, as Sam brings her hand back, takes a sip of her coffee, and brings both hands around the mug, glancing out at the ocean again. 

Alex doesn’t know what to say. If she can say anything. Luckily, Sam is the kind of person who likes to fill awkward silences, and she comes up with another topic rather quickly. 

“My daughter wants to get a dog,” 

“A dog?” Alex repeats, and Sam nods. 

“Yeah, we finally have the yard space for one so...” 

“There’s a shelter. Not too far from the PD actually,” 

“Are you the type who volunteers to hug the puppies while you’re off work?” 

“No, actually my sister was.” Alex says, and — bless Kara— the words come out easy when she’s talking about someone other than herself now. “She used to volunteer a lot, because she always felt sorry for the ones who didn’t get adopted. If she could have taken them all in herself, she would have, but our parents wouldn’t let her,” 

The story brings a smile to Sam’s face. “She sounds like a good person,” 

Alex leans back in her seat a bit, glancing out at the ocean, at an approaching stormfront, a dark line on the horizon. “She is. That’s probably why she hasn’t come back to Midvale,” She says, and she sees tilt her head to the side in confusion. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a depressing thing to say, but it’s- it’s what happens in a small town like this. Either you’re good enough to leave, you settle for what’s given and you stay, or you go, screw up, and end up right back here,” 

She knows that she’s dropped a truth, and she sips at her coffee to stop her rambling tongue. Sam watches her with eyes flickering over her face, reading her before she raises an eyebrow. “Well, I never lived here in the first place, so... what kind of person do you think  _ I  _ am?” 

“You’re running from something, or you’re trying to find yourself,” Alex says, and feels Sam go quiet. “Probably a bit of both,” 

The look she gives Alex is one that Alex can't quite pin down. Her eyes are sad, but there's a smile on those lips, and Alex knows that she's gotten it right. 

“You really know your way around people, don’t you? Which one are you?” 

Alex wishes she had something more beautiful and poetic other than this, so she speaks under her breath, hoping that Sam won’t catch it. “The coward who ran back home,” 

She looks out to the water again. The waves she’s seen for years. Sam’s soft voice calls her back. 

“You might think that, but I think different,” 

When she turns to look at Sam again, there’s a smile on her lips again, and she’s reaching out again like before to grab her hand, but this time it’s a solid, deliberate action. She holds Alex’s hand like she holds her gaze, with a reassuring warmth. 

“I think you’re like me. You’re trying to find yourself again,” 

Alex smiles, and glances down at their hands- 

“S’cuse me ladies, I’ve got the pie of the day, and some more coffee for the both of you,” 

And just like that, they both jump back to their respective seats, as Betsy looks knowingly between them, placing two plates on the table, each with a slice of pie, and a pot of coffee. 

They both thank her, and Alex desperately tries to avoid making more eye contact with her than necessary. She can feel that the older lady is just about ready to start preparing the catering for her wedding at this rate. 

“I didn’t just organise this to talk about my life,” Alex says suddenly, and Sam looks up from where she was eyeing the generous slice of apple pie on her plate. “I actually wanted to tell you what I saw last night,” 

Sam’s brow furrows just a bit. “You saw something and you didn’t tell me?” 

“It- it cleared off before I could really do anything, and I figured it wouldn’t be back,” Alex explains, and Sam seems satisfied with that explanation for now. 

She takes her fork, and takes a generous piece of the freshly baked pie, the taste of cinnamon and brown sugar and fresh apples and buttery pastry on her tongue, and she lets out an exaggerated moan that makes Alex chuckle under her breath. 

Alex needs to get things back on track, and she spears her own pie and asks-“What do you know of the cryptid of Midvale?” 

“You mean that old ghost story? I’ve heard a little from my older clients, but...” Sam shrugs, taking another quick bite, pausing for a moment to think before her brow furrows in that confused manner again. “You can’t be telling me that you actually saw it-“ 

“I’ve seen it. Twice,” it sounds like a brag to her own ears. Like a fisherman talking about a white whale, but she thinks her honesty must come across through her voice, because Sam sits back a bit, raising an eyebrow. 

“So is it a coyote, or a wolf, or a polar bear? I’ve heard some pretty conflicting theories,” 

“It’s a wolf... I think. If I had to describe it, I’d say it’s a pretty weird looking dog,” 

“And you saw it?” 

“Yeah,” Alex says, and leans in a little, noting that Betsy is behind the counter and not about to listen in. “Listen. Don’t take this officially, but I think that there’s a connection between the cryptid and the disappearances, but I’m having trouble connecting the dots,” 

“Well, I’ve got copies of my reports, and a little summary of each meeting I’ve had with these people. I don’t know how much help they’ll be but... it’s gotta be something,” Sam says it casually, like she hasn’t potentially given Alex something very useful for these cases. 

“Thank you,” she really means it, but Sam just laughs it off. 

“It’s nothing, really. I’d do anything for- for the community,” she clears her throat, and turns her gaze out the window at the view. “I mean, you’ve all been nothing but welcoming,” 

She wants to see the beach, she tells Alex as much and before long they’re finishing up the last of their coffee and they’re heading out of the diner. 

Sam’s never been to a place where she’s felt comfortable calling a server by the name on their tag, but that seems to be the norm around here. They walk around the building to where there’s a set of stairs that head down onto the beach proper. 

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of being this close to the beach. Her shoes sink into the sand as they walk, and listen to the cry of seagulls overhead. 

Alex isn’t watching the water. She’s watching  _ her _ , and the thought brings a flutter to her chest. She wants to do nothing more than to close the space between them. Her fingers feel cold, and she can see Alex’s hand by her side, and she wants to hold it again. 

She’s never felt like  _ this  _ before. Like she wants to bring the other woman into her arms, to hold her close. It’s not uncomfortable, but she feels a pull to her, and it’s all she can focus on. She looks back down at her own hands, and tucks her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. 

“I brought you to the beach so you could have a look at the water,” Alex teases, and Sam feels embarrassed for a moment until she adds - “You keep looking at the sand instead,” 

“I mean... I was kind of close to the beach in National City, but it wasn’t the same,” 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “You’re from National City?” 

“Well, I moved here from there,” 

It’s a thought that they both ponder for a little longer as they listen to the sounds of the waves. Circumstances had them in the same, small town. They’d never even heard of each other in the city, they’d been strangers, and now they were - acquaintances? Friends? 

“And why Midvale?” Alex asks. 

Sam glances around, at the shops lined up along the main road, the beach that spreads out in front of them, the water alongside them, the patchwork sky. “I don’t know. Something just... drew me here,” 

She says it in a wistful manner, and Alex has to laugh at that. “To Midvale. Okay,” 

“What?” Sam frowns. “It’s a great place,” 

Alex is about to respond with another snarky retort, but she hears her text tone, and realises that she’s  _ definitely  _ spent more time out here than she should have. 

“That’s probably my boss,” there’s a chance that it might not be, it could be Winn- she tugs her phone out of her back pocket, and Sam watches her, a small smile on her face. 

“Well, perks of being your own boss,” her smile widens, and she runs a hand through her hair, pushing the brown locks out of her face. “I don’t have to go back until whenever,” 

Alex tears her eyes away from the woman next to her, and sighs as she sees that the message is most definitely from J’onn. “I should head back,” 

“Well... this was nice,” 

“Yeah,” she doesn’t want to leave, and it feels like Sam doesn’t want to either. She’s staring out at the water, swinging back and forth on her heels. “I guess I’ll see you aro-“ 

“Do you want to maybe meet up again?” she blurts out, her hair whipping about with the speed that she turns to face Alex. “If you have any questions about the reports, I can go through them... maybe over lunch or something? Tomorrow?” She wrings her hands together, and she looks about ready to collapse in on herself. 

Alex decides to not be cruel, and she smiles, easing Sam’s worry just a little bit. 

“That sounds great, actually. I’m sure there’ll be a quite a few, I don’t know anything about accounting,” 

“Great! It’s a date then,” Sam chirps, and then winces and quickly corrects-“and by date I mean-“ 

“A date,” Alex isn’t giving her an easy way out. 

“A... yeah,” Sam pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head for a second and the action is oddly adorable. “Date. Friends go on dates, right?” 

“Are we friends?” Alex asks, and she genuinely wants to know. They’ve known each other for barely three weeks at this point, and it feels like they are, but she’s unsure. Cause maybe they could be something  _ more _ . 

Sam doesn’t seem to know either. She’s getting more flustered by the minute. “I- I -dunno. Didn’t you have to leave or something?” 

Right. Yes. Work. J’onn was calling her. She’s smiling despite herself, she’s enjoying this too much. Sam is fun to tease, and her embarrassed little half-grin-half-grimace is making her heart do weird things. “I have to go,” 

-

“Lieutenant Danvers,” J’onn says as soon as she pushes the creaky door open, and Alex already knows she’s in trouble. 

She holds up the flash drive Sam gave her, and makes her way over to her desk. 

“That better be for the missing person cases,” 

“It is,” she replies, and tries not to flinch too much as he walks on over. He’s not mad, but he has that air of fatherly disapproval around him that makes her skin crawl as he comes up behind her, staring at her monitor as she opens up what was stored on the bright yellow USB. 

Records, as was promised. All meticulously named and dated. Sam’s efficient, and organised, and she can’t help but smile at the document titled ‘Alex read this first’. 

But she already knows that J’onn is rather confused about what’s going on between them. 

“Is there any reason why you went to meet a source in a diner today?” 

Small towns. Gotta love ‘em. Alex swivels around to look at J’onn. 

His arms are crossed, and she’s surprised to see a smile on his face- what? 

Her brow furrows. “Didn’t want to scare her off. I’m trying to keep things friendly between us. I feel like she might know more than she lets on,” 

“Hm,” his smile only grows. “Right. And the other night, with the ‘patrol’ you went on,” 

Alex closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Right. Because J’onn speaks with her mom. Yep. Of course. “J’onn-“ 

“Nothing. I’m not getting involved,” he holds up his hands, and starts to back off. “Just happy to hear that you’re-“ 

“ _ J’onn,”  _

-

She’s basically flying home, on the back of her bike, racing through the night. It’s not just the bike that’s making her feel lighter than air, it’s not just the bike that’s fuelling the adrenaline, the exhilaration, coursing through her system. 

It’s the promise of a second date.

_ Date _ . 

Cause it was a date, there was  _ no way  _ it could be otherwise. It had just been them. They’d had coffee, talked about themselves. She was pretty sure Sam had flirted with her at one point, and she knew she had been more than obvious a few times with her own flirtations. Sam had even called it so- and it may just be her own wishful thinking, reading into things, but... it seemed to be true enough. 

Subtlety isn’t her strong suit when it comes to things like this. She hasn’t had enough experience to learn the art of it. It’s probably nothing, but it feels like she’s getting a crush, and she’s going on dates, and it feels good to be  _ alive  _ again. 

She leans into a turn, watching her headlight pass over the trees bordering the road. 

It feels like the night is hers. 

It feels like now she has purpose, has a reason, has  _ hope _ for a future, and it’s almost funny how something as simple as meeting a new person could change her life so much. 

She almost laughs, but she can’t, because she sees the headlights of the approaching car, overtaking another, merging into her lane, and she can’t swerve to get out of the way in time. 

There’s blinding light. Screeching tyres. The ground comes up fast to meet with her, and things go black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments fuel the writer (and motivate me to post faster :P )


	4. awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex wakes up. eliza and j'onn are both concerned about their disaster of a daughter. 
> 
> also feat. back porch conversations.

Unsurprisingly, when she opens her eyes next, everything  _ hurts _ . 

But she’s surrounded by something warm, something that smells of Midvale’s forests, (wet earth, dead leaves, and the salt of the sea on the breeze) that is soft beneath her head. She doesn’t feel like she’s in danger, quite the opposite. She feels  _ safe _ . 

She closes her eyes again. 

-

Across town, Sam thinks about texting Alex for most of the morning. It’s around ten-thirty that she finally gets the courage to ask her if the small fish-and-chips store down near the pier would be fine for their lunch. She waits for a reply while she sits in the bakery and helps the elderly owner with his bookkeeping. 

Alex doesn’t reply. By three, Sam’s already filled herself up with freshly baked pastries, and made her way back home to her office. 

She glances at her phone before dinner. Ruby asks if she’s waiting for someone to call. She lies, and says she isn’t. 

It doesn’t matter. Nobody calls. Alex doesn’t even text. 

Later that night, she wonders if she should ask if she’s okay. Or call, because Alex had wanted to know about her sleepwalking. She doesn’t. 

Unable to shake the unease she feels in her stomach, the tightness in her chest, or the crawling beneath her skin, she tries to find something to do to get herself to feel tired enough to sleep, but then something clicks, and as soon as her head hits the pillow, she’s drawn into a deep, dreamless slumber. 

-

She wakes up next because there is a cold breeze on her face, the biting fall breeze that brings with it the sounds of dead leaves, skittering into the room with her. 

It’s not just her face that is cold. The more Alex comes to, the more she realises it’s her whole body. She’s still in the clothes from the night before, but the wind finds its way through tears and rips. The warmth she’d felt before has gone. 

She runs her fingers over a gash in the sleeve of her jacket. She’s a bit disappointed at that, but then again she’s got more leather jackets, so she’s not entirely upset about it. 

She vaguely recognises the space she’s in, conceptually but not literally. She’s in a cabin, one of the old hunting cabins. She knows most of them are abandoned, but this one clearly isn’t, even though it doesn’t have a door. 

She lies on makeshift blankets on an old creaky bed. She hears the skittering of leaves coming through the open door, and she opens her eyes to see what’s beneath her. 

The sight of the clothes set her on edge immediately. They aren’t her own, and she wonders if she’s contaminated a crime scene. Some of it is old, and damaged. Torn apart, some burst at the seams, and the scraps have been tossed on the bed. 

She picks up what was beneath her head, there’s dirt on one side, where it rested against the ground, and a bit of her own blood on the other, she brings her hand to her nose and feels the uncomfortable dry blood there. 

A white wool sweater. Incredibly soft, and intimately familiar, but she can’t place why. 

She looks around, and her helmet rests beside her shoes and her jacket — she must have taken them off? But she can’t remember doing so — and just outside the cabin she can see her bike. 

So she has everything, the only thing she doesn’t have is any clue of how she’s gotten herself there, doesn’t understand how she’s managed to get so banged up. Her body hurts, but she needs to get back to civilisation.

Her screen is smashed up, her phone won’t start. She curses to herself and glances about in the dim light coming from a half-filled moon. 

On the floor, there are scraps of clothing. Dirtied like the rest, these just haven’t lasted well. She finds a single oddly patterned sock, and wonders if it’s perhaps a den for some kind of clothes-stealing creature. 

That would explain the muddy paw prints on some of them. 

The animal seems to have made itself a bed. She finds no evidence of food scraps or anything, just the clothes. There are shelves on one wall, and she tries to hunt for a torch, but all she finds is an old oil lantern, the glass clouded over. She’s never used one before, and isn’t too keen on figuring out how to use it. 

There are a few paperbacks, with cracked, frayed covers and swollen pages. A small wood burning stove, some matches. No firewood. Two wooden chairs and an upturned crate as a table, one of the chairs had been knocked over, and there are marks along one of the legs, like something had been chewing at it. 

She can’t hear anything coming back, so she gets her things, and prepares to leave. Her body aches and protests, but she needs to get home. 

She pushes her bike beside her, getting to the edge of the small clearing before she realises- 

She has no fucking clue where she is. It’s still dark outside, nearly pitch black. 

_ How is she even going to get back from here?  _

“Fuck,” she hisses. 

And then there’s a rustle from a nearby bush. She freezes. 

That’s something  _ big _ . 

Footsteps approaching. Precise, and measured. Coming up from behind her. It’s not a person, it’s an animal. A  _ large _ one. 

Her skin prickles, and not from the chill. Whatever it is- she knows, she shouldn’t make any sudden movements. 

She turns around —  _ slowly _ — one hand on the handlebars, keeping the bike steady. 

And then she remembers. 

The flash of white, barreling into the bike and her, pushing her out of the way. Tumbling into the forest, the sharp canine yelp of pain she’d heard as the wolf went down with her as she yanked on the brakes and the bike span out. 

Her helmeted head hitting the ground. Darkness. Something moving beneath her. Walking. A low grumble and she’s holding on so she doesn’t slip off the beast beneath her. She hopes she’s not going to be dinner. 

“You saved me,” she breathes, and the creature stares back at her, coming to a stop a few yards away. 

She goes to prop her bike up against a nearby tree, but the cryptid lets out a disapproving sound. 

The wolf turns, long furred tail trailing out behind it as it starts to walk away. 

“Wait-“ she starts, and the wolf pauses, one leg held up in the air. It looks at her expectantly, ears pricked, before turning again, heading down along a narrow path. 

Then it pauses. Looks back at her. Lets out another sound. A call, not quite a bark or a howl. 

Alex understands. 

It wants her to  _ follow.  _

So she does. Her tires get caught on twigs and tree roots. It’s slow goings, and she’s not in the best condition at the moment, everything still  _ hurts _ , but she follows the wispy white tail around trees and boulders, across a narrow stream, until she reaches a point where she can barely glimpse the tail through the woods, and her body is protesting against every step she takes-

“W-wait up! Wait, please,” 

The wolf probably hears something in her voice which gives away how much she really  _ needs  _ to stop, and it pauses, standing and watching as she gets her grip on her bike, and gets ready to push it again. 

If she was feeling any better, she’d be paying attention to where she was headed, trying to make a map of landmarks so she can get back to investigate further. She just hopes her subconscious can remember, because all she’s focused on right now is getting out of the forest. 

And she does. 

The wolf disappears. The tail is gone, and she’s about to call out to the wolf, about to panic, but she notices a source of light, further ahead. A streetlamp. 

She meets back up onto the road before long. 

 

It’s instinctive to head home- and home isn’t her own little rented place but it’s the family home. She’s barely even pulled in when the front door flies open, and Eliza comes barrelling out. 

She gets off her bike, and takes off her helmet to see her mother’s worried and  _ furious  _ face. 

She doesn’t expect it, because although she knows her mother cares about her, she’s usually quite aloof in her presence. This is concern on a different level, concern so intense it’s circled back into anger at Alex for some reason. 

“Alex? You were meant to come home last night, and I was-  _ what happened to you? _ ” Her expression shifts, and she grabs Alex’s arm, turning it around to see the gashes in her leather jacket. 

Alex barely has time to process the fact that she slept for  _ a whole day.  _ “I just had a bit of a tumble. Slept it off, I’m fine,” 

“Are you? Were you drinking and riding?” her tone goes distrusting in an instant, and Alex is startled by the sudden shifts in her mother’s demeanor. 

“No Mom,” she replies reflexively, taking her arm back and heading towards the house. She’s thirsty, now that she thinks about it. And hungry. “I’m fine. Not a scratch on me, see?” 

“You could have called. You could have sent a message,  _ something _ .” 

“If I could, I would have, but my phone broke,” she holds it up, and Eliza’s glare falters just a bit back into that worried look that Alex hates so much. “Mom, seriously. I’m okay,” 

She tries to abate her fears with a soft laugh as she heads towards the house, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

“You look like you’ve just crawled out of a ditch. You’re not okay,” Eliza calls after her, but she can tell there’s no more arguing with Alex. 

She doesn’t say anything else after that. Alex has a long needed shower, and is off to sleep again. 

Alex should have know that her mother would have called J’onn. She doesn’t find out until the next day though, when they’re out on patrol. 

She’s trapped in the car with him. They’ve just finished lunch, he waits until she’s guzzling down the last of her soda, using her straw to get the last drops, before he tells her. 

“Your mother called,” 

It’s a statement, not a question, so Alex chooses to ignore it. “Do we have any access to information on the hunting cabins in the area?” 

It doesn’t work. She feels him settling into his disappointment, and she turns to face him, raising an eyebrow. He just sighs. “Alex, can you stop-“ 

“J’onn. I’m trying to do my job,” she says, and it’s true. She wants to get to the bottom of the disappearances, and she’s potentially found a link with this cabin full of clothing scraps that the cryptid has collected. “You should try to focus on yours,” 

He shakes his head, staring out the windshield. “Don’t do this again. Don’t start shutting people out-“ 

“I’m not! I’m not. I just-“ she’s on the defensive, and she realises her voice is too loud when J’onn turns to look at her, as if she’s confirmed his thoughts. “I  _ know _ I’m onto something here. I just have to connect the dots. There’s  _ something _ with these missing person cases and the Cryptid, J’onn,” 

J’onn is  _ family _ . 

Family do these things. 

Alex has seen that look on many of the faces of her family members before. That was the look that Kara gave her after Maggie broke up with her. That was the look that Eliza gave her on the first day she rocked up in Midvale. 

She’s seen this before on J’onn’s face, directed at her own father, when Eliza and J’onn had tried to talk him out of doing something stupid, something  _ reckless  _ in pursuit of a ghost. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t-  _ J’onn _ ,” she shakes her head, a sinking weight settling in her stomach.  

“Alex. Just listen to yourself,” she’s been here before. It sets her heart pounding in her ears, the silence is too loud, the car is too small, and she’s ready to jump out of the car. “Your mother told me you nearly totalled your bike last night. You were in an accident, and-“ 

A crackle of static cuts through the silence, and Winn’s voice comes through the car speakers. Of  _ course  _ he was in on this too. “ _ Wait, you were in an accident? Are you okay?”  _

“I’m fine, Winn,” she growls out, and the glare she gives J’onn could probably melt through steel. He only levels her with that quiet concern, and her jaw sets firm. 

“ _ Geez, god. You need to get yourself checked out-“  _

“What’s wrong with all of you? Can you not just mind your own business for once? I’m  _ okay _ . I’m just trying to do my fucking job,”

She leaves work at six, and the sky is heavy with rain clouds. In the distance she hears the rolling of thunder. 

The aches in her body fade after a little while, so she decides to go for a walk. 

It’s raining, but Alex doesn’t really mind. Winn would probably have something to say about the fact that she was going out there without an umbrella, and so would her mother, but they aren’t around right now. 

Nobody is, not at her place at least, and that’s the problem. 

She walks away from the empty house, and ends up following the sidewalk down a small street. She’s done this circuit countless times before, through the little suburb part of Midvale. It’s grown since she was younger, since she used to run around in the dark when she’d go over to visit Vicky Donahue, and they’d sneak out of her house at night to go out and get drunk at parties with kids several years older than them. 

Now she’s walking these streets so she  _ doesn’t  _ get drunk. 

How the times have changed. 

Headlights catch on raindrops as a car drives past. She wonders what she must look like right now, rain drenched and alone, wandering with no particular destination in sight. The water seeps through layers of clothing, it runs across her face, it chills her skin, but she keeps walking. The feeling of cold droplets hitting her skin grounds her. 

She passes houses. She walks tree-lined streets. The rush of the rain is all she hears, sometimes a car will pass. Then she catches the sounds of voices, of shrill shrieks, of laughter. 

She glances down the street, and there’s the soccer pitch, sodden and dreary in the rain. Kids are being ferried into waiting cars under umbrellas and jackets, taillights glow red as cars idle and a few back out, heading off onto the road to bring kids back home. 

She’s about to walk right past. She’s walking past, but something else grabs her attention. 

“Hey! Lieutenant!” A bright voice calls, and Alex turns around to see a woman in a yellow raincoat, coming towards her. 

It takes her a second, but the lanky gait can’t belong to anyone but the accountant she’s been seeing for the past week. 

“Long time no see,” her smile is bright, out of place in the dreary mood of the evening. 

“Sorry,” she says, and her voice sounds flat, “I’ve just been busy with work,” 

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I understand, I  _ totally  _ get it.” Sam tries to keep that upbeat tone, but she’s deflated a little under Alex’s gloom. “I just missed you, that’s all. How have you been?” 

“Good,” she lies, “I don’t want to keep you though, if you’re meant to be getting Ruby from soccer-“ 

Sam waves her hand in Alex’s direction, glancing back at the pitch with a smile on her face. “Ruby’s fine. She’s the only kid here who actually  _ likes  _ the rain. A little too much. The coach told her to go hit the showers, cause as soon as it started raining, she landed face first in the mud,” 

Sam’s face lights up when she talks about her daughter. She’s almost...  _ proud  _ to be talking about her, even now. Alex crosses her arms, and watches as the heavy raindrops make ripples in the puddles near her feet. 

“What are you doing out in this weather? You’re going to catch a cold,” Sam asks after a few short moments, trying to fill the quiet that has settled between them. She’s got a look of concern on her face that Alex- doesn’t mind. 

She knows it comes from a good place. Sam doesn’t  _ know  _ her. She isn’t thinking that Alex is about to have another breakdown, she isn’t thinking that Alex is going to spiral like her father. She only knows what she’s shown, what she’s told. “I’m just walking. To clear my head,” 

“In the rain?” Sam raises an eyebrow, and holds out a hand too, as if to prove a point. 

Alex just shrugs. “Water washes away everything, doesn’t it?” 

Sam goes quiet at that. She looks towards the pitch again. 

Alex pulls her arms closer to her body. The chill is starting to set in now, cause her outer layers are soaked. Sam is probably toasty and dry underneath that ridiculous looking raincoat, and while the colour is definitely something she wouldn’t want, she wouldn’t mind having a jacket right about now. 

Sam catches her staring. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Just... tell me Alex. Was it something I said? Or did? Or do you not-“ 

“Really Sam, it’s just been work. People are missing, and I’d love to hang out or whatever but things are...” 

“Busy.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well... since you’re not busy right now, and you’re walking around in the rain...” She feels it. Sam is building up to something big. Her brows draw in and she’s tapping her hands against her sides as the rain continues to come down in sheets around them- 

“Hey! It’s you!” She’s nearly knocked off her feet with the force of someone colliding with her side, and it’s only the childlike voice that stops her from throwing the girl off of her instinctively. “Police woman!” 

“ _ Ruby!”  _ Sam all but shouts. 

“Did you come to watch the game?” She ignores her mother’s scolding tone and she looks up at Alex with childlike hope in her eyes. As if a junior soccer match is something that a Midvale cop would go to in her spare time. 

She doesn’t have the heart to tell the truth, so she bends it a little. “Well, I would be, but it’s raining isn’t it?” 

“Ugh,” Ruby groans, rolling her eyes. “It’s just water from the sky. I don’t see the fuss. We could totally play right now and we wouldn’t even need to shower afterwards,” 

Sam has gone quiet, and when Alex looks up at her again she sees that she’s watching Alex carefully. A slight bit of confusion on her face, like she wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction after that slightly tense conversation before. 

She hopes she can convey  _ something  _ through the look she gives Sam. 

“Are you coming for dinner?” Ruby asks, eyes wide and imploring. 

“If you don’t have any other plans...” Sam is giving her a way out, but really... 

“If your mom is inviting me over, then sure,” she says to Ruby, before glancing up at Sam. 

Sam gives her a nod, and she can’t hide the eagerness in her smile. 

Ruby fistpumps. “Sweet! I wanna show you my trophies! I got the Best and Fairest like two years in a row, and someone said I cheated, but then I was like how can you cheat on an award that’s called  _ the Best and Fairest _ ? She was so stupid, it’s in the name. She was just mad cause she got disqualified during one of our regional games so she couldn’t come to state with us. Not my fault she learned how to play by watching Neymar in the cup,” 

Ruby obviously enjoys the sound of her own voice. She fills the silence from where they stand to the car, and Sam gives Alex little smiles over her daughter’s head every now and again when their eyes meet. 

They stay quiet, only to feed her conversation from time to time. Alex thinks she’s made the right decision. 

“I’m going to get your car wet,” she says, and two seconds later Ruby leaps into the back seat, lying across all three seats with her muddy, grass stained uniform. She uses her teeth to open her water bottle and holds it at arm’s length before squirting water into her mouth. 

Sam glances between Alex, and Ruby in the back seat, and raises her eyebrows. 

Alex gets in, and closes the door behind her. 

Sam adjusts her rearview mirror just so she can glare at her daughter through it. “Rubes, can you at least try to pretend like you have some manners?” 

Ruby looks at Sam, tilting her head to the side. Confused, she slowly raises a pinky as she drinks from her water bottle. 

Sam lowers her head, and takes a  _ deep  _ breath. “Okay,” She switches the ignition and puts the car into drive without preamble, driving out of the parking space and onto the road. 

“Is that what you meant?” Ruby pipes up from the back, when she realises Sam isn’t responding to her. 

Alex leans back to look at her, and nearly bursts out laughing. She  _ just  _ manages to keep it cool. “Yeah, I think that’s what she meant,” She says, and Ruby’s answering smile is worth Sam’s weary groan. 

They get to the Arias’ household, and Alex wonders how a bunch of walls and a roof can feel so  _ welcoming _ . 

Ruby runs right in with wet shoes to the downstairs bathroom with Sam shouting after her that she’ll have to clean the floors. Alex’s clothes are already mostly dry, she’s not too stressed now that she sees Sam herself not caring much about the wood floors getting a little messy. 

Sam cooks, and the food is hot when it reaches Alex’s plate, no microwave required. They eat on the dining room table together, Ruby sets out a place for her. They are loud. Ruby laughs like her mother, with her whole body. Alex joins in with the jokes, she can’t stay sad for long, not in a space like this. She gets to just exist without expectations for a little while, without a reputation, without a history. 

She’s just Alex, and Alex is whatever Alex feels like being in the moment. 

She’s laughing at something that Ruby said when she spots Sam watching her from the corner of her eye. It’s that same look she’s been giving her a lot recently, when she thinks Alex isn’t looking. There’ll be a time where Alex can think about that, and wonder if it really means what she thinks it means. But for now, she lets it be, lets the feeling of belonging, of being  _ wanted  _ in a space warm her chest and fill her up until she feels alive again. 

After dinner, Ruby is off to do homework. Sam all but throws the dishes in the sink, claiming they are a “tomorrow problem”. 

Then the two of them have time to talk. 

The air is cool at this time of night. She’s surprised that Sam even offered to go and sit out on the back porch when it’s dark and the rain is still coming down, a heavy downpour. But she says she likes the rain, and the back porch stays miraculously dry. Alex’s own porch, the tiny sliver of it she has, is always damp, the rain seems to angle to catch it on purpose. 

Sam has obviously set the porch swing to her own height, because when Alex sits down, her feet swing forward, and when they go back down again they can’t quite touch the porch unless she tilts her feet forwards. 

She throws a coarse blanket of thick woven fibres over the both of them. It feels oddly intimate, to share something like this with her. 

There are little lights out in planter boxes she’s set around the edges of the porch where the rain does get in. The leaves dance as the raindrops hit them, and the lights reflect off wet leaves. 

The warm light comes from behind them, from the windows in the porch door. Sam watches Alex, and sees how her jaw is set firm, and her eyes, while still beautiful and dark, aren’t as warm as she remembers. 

Whatever is on her mind is weighing her down, on the verge of drowning her. It aches her to see Alex like this, she can’t help but feel like she needs to do...  _ something  _ here. 

But she also can see that Alex will open up to her in her own time, so she offers what she can. This. A shoulder to lean on. A listening ear. 

“I like to come out here sometimes. To think,” 

She gives her a place to think, and perhaps — if she’ll take them — some arms to be held by. 

Alex looks over at her, and they’re close on the porch swing, so she can see the way Alex’s hair curls just a bit when it dries, she can count her lashes in the porch light if she wanted to, she could count the light freckles on her nose. 

Her cheeks are ruddy from the cold, and Sam can’t hold herself back any longer. 

She brings an arm up around Alex’s shoulders, drawing her in. Her shirt is still damp, she’s warm and solid and  _ there  _ and she doesn’t pull away. 

She folds into the hug, and Sam tugs the blanket up to cover her properly, patting it once she’s happy with how it rests, up close to Alex’s chest. “There. Nice and snug,” 

Alex chuckles, and as if to make certain of the warmth around her, she pulls a little closer to Sam, and her hand curls around the top of the blanket, keeping it close. 

Her head rests on Sam’s shoulder, and she can’t find what to say to express what she feels inside. It’s a tangled mess of longing and comfort and pining and pain and it’s too much for her to  _ comprehend  _ let alone explain to someone who isn’t in her head. 

Sam  _ knows  _ her, in a way that the people who have known her for years don’t quite understand, don’t quite know how to handle. 

So she doesn’t say anything, just rests with her head on Sam’s shoulder. 

It’s then when Sam notices. Because of course she does. Alex’s left hand holds the blanket. There’s a faded mark on her ring finger. Alex sees her notice, watches her eyes flicker down, but Sam doesn’t point it out. 

She just holds Alex tighter, her other arm coming around her too, and she rests her cheek against Alex’s head, like she can somehow hold her together. 

“You get it,” Alex breathes, and Sam hums. 

“Get what?” 

“You just... you know. Tomorrow problems. Yesterday problems,” she says, quoting Sam’s own wisdom from before. 

“Hm, you think you’re making sense...” Sam teases, and Alex can feel as she lets out a short huff, almost a laugh at the irony. “I guess I get it. You don’t want to talk, I’m not going to make you. I don’t want you to talk, I want you to feel better, and if not talking is what you need, then...” 

She holds Alex just that little bit tighter for a fraction of a second. She eases up, but Alex wants to keep her there, so she rests her hand on her arm, and one of her fingers meets bare skin instead of fabric. 

She glances down to see a tear in her sleeve, and the other woman pulls her arm back. 

“I’m running out of clothes and I don’t know why,” Sam groans. “I think they’re growing legs and running away,” 

“Maybe you should take care of them better,” It’s Alex’s turn to tease, and she pokes at another hole in the sleeve of Sam’s sweatshirt. Sam isn’t offended, she laughs, and picks at the frayed edges of the fabric. 

“I don’t even know how that got there,” she has a look on her face, her lips pursed as she shakes her head, that Alex hasn’t really seen before. She’s vulnerable now. “I’ve been doing some weird things while sleepwalking, cause one time I woke up on the back porch, with the clothes I’d forgotten on the line as my bed,” 

“Maybe you subconsciously remembered to take the clothes off the line in the middle of the night,” Alex tries to add some levity, but a shadow passes over Sam’s face. 

The sleepwalking. It’s still bothering her. Alex has her own demons, and they are in the past. Sam’s demons are very much in the present, in her own mind. 

“Have you been sleepwalking?” she asks. 

Sam takes a few seconds to think, where she glances off into the distance. “I’ve woken up in my bed. Not anywhere else,” 

“Well, that’s a start,” she says, trying to be reassuring. 

She isn’t sure what to do with the vulnerability on her face, not when she herself feels so raw and open like this. 

But then, maybe that’s exactly what she needs right now, and this is what Sam needs too. An instance where they both have their cards on the table. Their fears, both spoken and unspoken. 

Alex can fill in the gaps that Sam leaves in her own story. She can see the woman who raises her daughter alone. The woman who has depended on nobody but herself for years, who has trusted nobody but herself, and is now faced with the idea that her own mind may be betraying her. 

And Sam — well, she isn’t exactly sure what Sam sees, what she knows, what she understands of Alex’s story. 

“I’m going to help you Sam,” the words fall from her lips, and Alex  _ means  _ it. “I’m going to figure out what’s going on,” 

Sam doesn’t reply, but she knows by the way she looks at her, that Sam trusts her to make true on that promise. It’s a promise shared between only the two of them, with the forest and the little dragonfly lights as their witnesses. 

And when she looks at Sam, there’s nothing really between them now, is there? Sam is putting her trust in Alex completely, and Alex has bared a part of her soul to her. 

But then Sam turns her head back to the front. and pulls Alex closer to her as she stares out at the forest instead. The swing rocks them both gently, and the soft creak of it meets the sound of the steadying rain on the roof, and the steady drip of water from the gutter. 

Alex wraps an arm around the other woman, moving closer to her in the process, and feels Sam’s laugh as she flinches away from her cold nose brushing against the skin of her neck. Sam’s scent reminds Alex of the holidays, of the warmth of mulled wine, of the forest in the winter, because it fills her with the same comfort that starts at the middle of her chest and works it way out. 

It only grows brighter when Sam brings both arms around her, and softly breathes - “I’m so glad I found you.” 

Alex can do nothing else but agree. 

Maybe that’s enough. 


	5. watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dates, drive-ins, and decisions; with a generous serving of danvarias to fill your needs till i update next x

Her days are coloured differently now. She notices things, as fall sets in properly, as the leaves start to change and shift colours, as the winds bring with them a new cold air. 

It seems fitting — that the seasons shift when her life does too. 

Work is interspersed with other things now. First it’s coffee, and she makes sure to bring something for the other officers that are in the precinct when she gets back. Cookies, pastries, one time she brings a whole pie, and it’s worth it for the smiles and surprised looks on the faces of her fellow officers. 

She sees Winn, because she’s missed him. She even goes to visit him at his radio station, and finds him rather happy there. He’s not a complete nerd, but he’s not always good with people, so it’s...  _ nice _ to see him in his element, talking to others, joking around. 

J’onn notices, and while he doesn’t say anything about it, he gives her a look that says more than any words could. He approves. 

Alex is on patrol that day when she gets the text. It’s easy enough to find someone else to fill in, and she pulls up at the shop that Sam sent her, a place that does decent burgers and shakes. 

She’s in her uniform, but she doesn’t mind. She knows some of the other officers come here on the regular, so it’s a common sight for the portly man behind the counter, who gives her a nod of acknowledgement as she walks in. 

She finds it hard to spot Sam for a moment, cause she’s not in her usual sweater and slacks combination. If anything, the clothes she’s wearing don’t match her usual getup at all — and Alex knows what she usually wore. 

She wears a muted knitted sweater in a multitude of colours, and a pair of stonewashed blue jeans. She smiles at Alex, she rests her elbows on the table, and her chin rests on her hands. 

“You look... different,” 

“I found this at the thrift shop,” Sam says, gesturing at the sweater she’s wearing with a broad smile, like she’s sharing an inside joke with Alex. “It’s hideous. I love it,” 

Alex shakes her head with a smile, taking her away from Sam’s sparkling eyes to see the menu. If she could get a glimpse through Sam’s eyes, to understand how she sees the world. 

“I don’t really feel like buying full priced clothes if they keep getting messed up or just disappearing like that,” Sam says, and that spurs Alex to get back to work after their brief meeting and have a look at the hunting cabins in the nearby woods. 

She remembers the cabin. The clothes she saw, piled up on the bed, scraps scattered about on the floor. 

The white wool sweater that she should have taken with her.  _ Sam’s  _ sweater — and she wonders why she didn’t figure that out sooner. She’d go back out there to get it from the cabin, from the cryptid, but she’s not sure that’s a good decision without knowing exactly where it is. 

She gets a map of the entire National Park, which all but embraces Midvale, covering it from all sides that the coast doesn’t touch. The map has the town on it too, and when Alex unfurls the paper it takes up her entire desk, so she takes it back home, so she can pin it up on one of her walls, and take a better look at it. 

She does something about her own little place. She opens the windows a bit, lets some of that brisk fall air in. She takes a day out of the weekend to clean, and she throws out a lot of things that were cluttering the space. Empty bottles and boxes go in the recycling, the ecosystem in her fridge is cleaned out leaving her with ketchup and a single can of soda. 

It’s still not the best. Her sofa is deflated and the upholstery has seen better days. Her boxy TV can only find a few channels, the dining table legs are uneven and the kitchen has that ugly tile behind the stove. She gets rid of the spiderwebs but can’t find the spider, and there’s nothing she can do for peeling and fading paint on the walls. 

But it’s her space. And she can use it now, for gathering her evidence. 

She starts by making her own version of a Midvale wall, mapping the places where she’s seen the cryptid. Three places — the Johnson’s farm, Sam’s house, and the road where she’d had her accident. 

She doesn’t really see much of a connection between the location, so she goes and takes another set of post-it notes, and adds the places of interest for each case. 

The local elementary school, that Mrs Williams’ son attends. A few businesses regularly frequented by each missing person. She tries to keep the colours different, but she’s only got yellow and white, so the notes end up getting some highlighter love. 

She works for hours, well into the night, and doesn’t think to stop until she hears a knock on the door, glances at the clock, and realises it’s well past when she was meant to arrive at Eliza’s for dinner. 

And of course, she’s behind the door when she swings it open. Alex is instantly conscious of the fact that she’s still in sweatpants and an old college sweatshirt that’s seen better days and smells faintly of old beer. 

Eliza’s grimace tells her more than enough. She holds a casserole dish in her hands, and looks Alex up and down. “Please at least tell me the house isn’t in the same state as you are right now. I raised you better than this,” 

Alex narrowly avoids reply with snark and sarcasm, instead she steps aside and lets her mother in. “I actually cleaned today, so you’re lucky,” 

Eliza bustles in, moving to the kitchen. Alex closes the door behind her, still quietly surprised by the fact that so many hours had gone by as she compiled evidence. 

She’s heading back down the short hallway into the living room area when she realises that Eliza has stopped halfway. She stands still in the middle of the room. Casserole dish in her hands, staring at the wall where Alex had pinned up the big map of Midvale. It’s rather disorganised, and Alex knows. There are papers and cutouts scattered about, over the couch and on the coffee table. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Alex says, getting ready to usher Eliza through to the kitchen but she doesn’t move from where she stands. “It’s just for a case,” When she sees Eliza isn’t moving, and she gently tries to pry the casserole dish from her hands. 

Eliza gives it away without saying anything. Her mother is frozen, staring at the map in front, and as Alex moves to place dinner in the kitchen and get some plates, she takes another step forward, and presses her fingers against one of the notes pinned to a location along the road that leads outside of Midvale. 

“You said this was for a case?” She asks, and there’s a hint of worry in her voice. Alex pauses in pouring a well-needed glass of wine for her mother, and sets the bottle back on the bench. 

“A few, actually. I’m just trying to collect all my information in one place, and I have the wall space here, so...” 

Alex thinks she’s about to get another chance to talk about it, but Eliza shakes her head, walking over to the kitchen and settling down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

Hm. Well. She's going to tell her anyways. "You know those missing people?" 

"I am aware that there are people missing," 

"Well," Alex walks over to the map, and taps one of the sticky notes she'd placed. It's just by an area she's highlighted, along a river that skirts through the National Park. "Two people went missing when walking to the falls around here, so this is the area they're searching," 

She looks over to the other notes, which just happen to align with two reported sightings of the cryptid. One in town, and the other out at Johnson's farm, which has a little yellow sticker. 

One of her own sightings. 

"Then there's the other two. Johnson and Williams, who disappeared from their homes. Both of those had a clear link to the sighting of a-" 

“Have you heard from your sister lately?” Eliza asks, and Alex figures she’s trying to change the subject. 

It's an abrupt change, and one that has Alex standing up properly, turning to look at her mother. Her lips are drawn in a hard line, and the wrinkles by her eyes more pronounced. She's not saying why, but she doesn't want to talk about it. 

It might be because these are people she knows. Or maybe — that little demon in her mind suggests — this is her mom’s way of telling her that it sounds a little far fetched. 

“She’s almost always busy,” Alex says as she pours two full glasses of red. “I texted her the other day, she said she was doing a feature on L-Corp’s CEO. Says the woman who runs it is actually nice,” 

“Isn’t she from that family though?” Eliza muses, and Alex hums as she serves herself. 

“I guess not all things run in the family,” Alex retorts. She doesn't know why she's defensive, but it's probably because she trusts Kara's judgement more than her mother does. It might be her protective side coming through, cause Kara's always been quick to trust in the past. 

Eliza gets what she's hinting at, when she looks at the map on the wall, the notes about cryptid sightings. She shakes her head again, and takes one of the glasses of wine. “You have to be careful," 

She wants to say something to defend herself, because this is the same thing that J'onn had started hinting at before, but she bites her tongue, and instead focuses on the warmth of a mouthful of cheap wine. 

“The people of Midvale are a superstitious bunch, you know that. I don’t want my daughter getting hurt while she’s out there chasing ghosts,” 

The sour aftertaste leaves a strange feeling in her mouth as she astutely ignores her mother's pointed glare. She knows what this means. This is her mother's way of warning her off the scent, but she's not going to stop until she gets to the bottom of it. 

-

Sometimes things get a bit busy. Sam thinks everyone in town works on the same sort of schedule. She can go weeks at a time with only a few jobs during tax time, but she knows now that word has spread, and people are sharing her details. 

She's working with a lot more businesses nowadays, and their accounts take a bit more time. She likes to meet up with people too, get to know them a little. 

That's how she gets wrapped up in a conversation with the local fishmonger. He’s got a wiry salt and pepper beard that goes down to his chest, and his face is weathered from the elements, but his eyes are kind, and he’s the kind of person that Sam thinks fits the description of ‘fatherly’. 

She’s going through his records, and things seem to be mostly in order, but profits are sliding due to a slump in product. She points out as much, and his smile fades. 

“Some of the guys didn’t take it all too well,” he mutters, “Johnson being gone, that is. He’s an asshole, but he used to come out on the weekends, or to the bar when the guys would go,” 

He purses his lips and shakes his head solemly. Sam wants to say some words of comfort, but she doesn’t really know what. She focuses on him for the moment, cause it seems he wants to talk, and puts her pen back on the table. 

“If it’s really the white wolf? He’s not coming back,” 

“The white wolf?” Sam asks, and the man lets out a harrumph, shaking his head and staring out the clouded window. “That’s the cryptid, isn’t it?” 

“Better that you don’t know. That way it can’t get you,” he says rather ominously, and Sam’s curiosity  _ burns _ . 

It takes her a moment to realise he’s teasing her. She sits with her hands in her lap, itching to ask, until she notices the twitch of amusement on his mouth, hidden by his beard. 

She frowns when she realises what he’s done and he laughs, a full belly laugh that almost makes him fall off his seat. 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist!” he wipes at his eyes, still chuckling to himself. 

Right. Cause it doesn’t exist, does it? It can’t exist, or it does, and it’s just a freak of nature. But then her mind reminds her of Alex. Alex who is adamant that she’s seen it, not once but  _ multiple  _ times, and she figures that maybe there’s some truth to the rumors somewhere. 

“Do you believe it exists?” She asks, and it’s rather sudden because she catches the old fisherman mid-laugh. “Do you think it’s making people disappear?” 

She watches as the smile leave his face, and he squares her with a steely look. Sam’s still an outsider, and she feels how guarded the fisherman is with his words. “You should know better than to ask too many questions about that wolf around here. It’s bad luck- don’t want to end up like old Lieutenant Danvers,” 

“You mean Alex-“ 

“Not her,” He shakes his head. “Her  _ father _ . But that isn’t my story to tell,” 

He leaves it at that, and Sam knows not to push it further, despite the questions forming in her head. 

-

She gets to see Sam a lot more. Every couple of days, she’s in town. She’s around at the grocery store one day, and after they’ve both bought what they need, they meet up afterwards for a coffee. 

And yet again, Alex is struck by how  _ easy  _ it is to speak to this woman, who comes to her with soft smiles and her heart on her sleeve, who expects nothing from Alex but for her to be herself, whoever that person may be. 

And Sam gets used to Alex as well. 

She sees the Lieutenant everywhere, in those tight jeans and leather jackets or sometimes, in her uniform. Every time she sees her, Alex’s face lights up, and it starts that flutter in her chest. 

Even if they only meet for a few minutes. A brief catch up, before they’re on their way to their jobs. Even if it’s twenty minutes for donuts, it’s one of the bright points in her day, and it makes things...  _ easier _ . 

She still has those moments where she feels the world slipping away from her, like sand through her fingers before she’s snapping back to the present, a few seconds after the fact. But around Alex, she can forget all that for a little while, and simply exist in the present. 

Like right now. 

They're in the car together as she drives through town, and she can't help but steal glances at her from the corner of her eyes as she drives. 

Alex's head rests on her hand as she leans against the door, looking out the window at the town buildings as they pass by, at the twilit sky. She's not as stealthy as she thinks she is- Alex catches her quite a few times, but she doesn't call her out, just goes to looking at the road with a smile on her face. 

Sam’s hands hold the wheel a little tighter, and she tries to hide a smile of her own as that little kick of excitement makes her heart skip a beat. This could be something between them. 

Alex notes that Sam’s car is one of those old styled sedans. She likes old things — vintage things. The watch that’s a little too large for her wrist. The ugly sweaters she thrifts. The shoes she wears when she’s not at work, faded canvas sneakers or boots that have seen better days. 

Maybe that’s why she was so adamant on dragging her out of work once her shift ended to go and catch a movie at the drive-in’s. A holiday appropriate family-friendly horror movie on one of the big screens just at the edge of town. Alex had been there countless times as a kid. She would have gone as a teenager, if she didn’t find it cringey and lame back then. 

The nostalgia hits as soon as Sam pulls her car into the gravel entrance, and Alex spots the cars lined up already, spots the lights strung up in lines to mark out the rows. 

Sam parks them on a bit of a slope, so they can see the screen properly, and the patch of grass Alex remembers when the weather was good, she’d run off with her middle school aged friends, and sit on the grass right beneath the screen, craning her neck up to watch the movie, listening to the tinny voices through the propped up speakers by the base of the sitting area. 

She feels a tug in her chest when she sees that there are kids out there, getting their blankets ready to sit right in the same spot that she did when she was younger. 

Ruby stretches over the center console, staring down at the grass and the kids gathered there, and her face lights up when she notices someone. 

“I think Jane’s here!” she says, and looks over at Sam. 

“You have your phone with you?” that hint of motherly concern in her voice makes Alex want to smile. 

“Yeah,” Ruby says, and she’s already leaning back, unbuckling her seatbelt in a rush. 

“Just don’t go too far,” Sam warns again, her hair fanning out as she swivels around to level Ruby with what is probably meant to be an intimidating glare.  “And come back  _ as soon  _ as the movie’s ov-“ 

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll be back when the credits roll. Later, nerds,” she sticks her tongue out, all the excitement whittling down her reserve, and Sam doesn’t even get a chance to yell at her before she’s off. The door slams behind her, and Sam and Alex are sitting there in silence. 

Sam fumes for a moment before resting her head in her hands. “My daughter,” 

“She’s fun,” Alex comments, and when Sam peers through her fingers to give her an incredulous look, Alex really has to laugh. “What?” 

“She’s a menace,” She gestures over to the pre-teen jogging over to go meet her friends repeatedly. “She’s-“ Alex gets it. She’s making Sam worried. That furrow between her brow is cute though, and when she lets out another disgruntled huff instead of finishing her thought, Alex glances away from her to hide a smile. 

Ruby throws her arms around a group of other kids from her grade. They’re all here to watch the movie too, it’s the weekend before halloween after all, and it’s a big deal in Midvale. 

“I can see her from here. Down with her friends,” Alex elbows Sam, and points her out for the other woman to see. “She’s okay,” 

“We can watch her from here,” Sam says, looking at Alex for reassurance, and she gives her a nod. 

“We can watch her from here. She’ll be safe, momma bear. No need to worry,” She’s compelled to rub her hand against Sam’s arm to comfort her, so she does, and it works. 

Sam melts into her seat, and gives Alex a sweet little smile. It’s soft, and Alex’s heart responds by beating just a bit faster. So she quickly moves into doing something else, so she doesn’t get distracted for her feelings for the other woman. 

“Blanket and snacks?” 

“In the trunk, I can-“ Sam tugs out the keys, and goes to push the door open but Alex shakes her head, and holds out her hand. 

“No, let me. You drove,” 

Sam blinks at her, debating with herself before Alex quirks an eyebrow and she caves, dropping the keys in the palm of her hand. 

 

Alex just needs  _ air _ . As soon as she steps out and makes her way over to the back of the car, the cold breeze shocks her system, and she’s able to think clearly again, about things other than Sam’s face, Sam’s smile, her  _ lips _ . 

“You got it bad, Danvers,” she hisses to herself as she unlocks the trunk, and spots a cooler and a rolled up blanket. 

She takes them both, uses her elbow to close the trunk, and clambers back in next to Sam, just as the film begins. 

It’s a thriller movie she’s seen before, nearly a thousand times with Kara. It’s worth it only for it’s camp value, and the fact that it’s nearly Halloween. 

Sam doesn’t really seem too interested in the movie either, she’s already attacking the snacks. She rips open the candy packet and starts hunting for a certain flavour, half-watching the intro credits to the film. 

Sam is focusing on keeping her cool around her crush, and what better to do that than to stress eat. 

Alex had brushed her off for lunch that one time, and Sam had made a fool of herself asking Alex out after their first not-date at the diner. They’d met up a lot for coffee since then, and there had been that one time they sat together on the porch swing, but it was still confusing. 

This isn’t a  _ relationship _ , but Sam wants it to be. She just...  _ doesn’t know  _ how to get it to where she wants it to be, and she feels like she should have learnt this by now. There’s just a gap there, that feeling like she’d missed out on an important lesson somewhere, and moved on without ever fixing it. 

She’s grown up now. She’s settled into a new town with her daughter, she’s got a steady job and plenty of everything. She should be confident. She should have her shit together. She shouldn’t be feeling like an awkward schoolgirl with a crush on someone way cooler than she is. 

Alex draws into herself a bit, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into her seat. As the movie gets to the end of the first act, the sky is well and truly dark, and a chill has set in, one that the old car doesn’t fend off very well. Neither does the shirt she wears, and while Sam appreciates how the black shirt shows off her forearms, it’s not exactly fending off the cold. 

Sam can barely feel it with the blanket half on her lap and another one of her new favourite woolen sweaters, but Alex must be, so she grabs one end of the blanket, and holds it out for Alex. Her skin looks blue-white in the light from the screen, her eyes reflective and dark when she glances over at Sam, notices her face first, then what she’s holding out in her hand. 

A thankful smile on her face, and she takes the blanket, pulling it over to her side. 

But there’s a problem. 

The center console is in the way. 

“Shit,” Alex thought she’d have one break from the cold, but the blanket is too short. It gets about a sliver of her leg before it’s not covering Sam anymore, and doing more to keep the gearshift warm than either of them. 

She really should have thought her outfit through. 

She’s about ready to give up on the blanket, when she catches the sound of Sam’s voice. 

“There’s more room back there,” If Alex wasn’t so in tune with Sam, she would have missed her quiet murmur. 

As soon as the offer is on the table, Alex wants nothing more. “Easier to share the blanket,” she notes, giving Sam a lopsided smile. 

It seems to work to ease Sam out of her thoughts a little, because that warm smile comes back to her face, and her voice is light when she teases -“I like the way you think, Lieutenant.” 

Sam glances into the back seat, and decides that rather than going through the side door like a normal person, she’s instead going to reach around to put the snacks down, before climbing through to the back seat. 

She thinks it can’t be that hard. She figures she can fit. 

She’s wrong. 

Alex watches as Sam clambers through the gap between the seats, and gets stuck when her knees won’t fold properly to fit through. There’s a jostling for a moment, then Sam goes still, with Alex holding back a laugh beside her as she’s basically wiggling her butt beside her head. 

“This looked a lot more graceful in my head,” Sam huffs, and that’s when Alex really can’t hold it in. 

She laughs, and the sudden, bright sound has Sam moving again, tugging herself forwards. Once. Twice, then an unexpected push on her backside has her slipping forwards and faceplanting into the back seat before her limbs sprawl off to the side. She’s pretty sure her foot ends up hitting the ceiling, and the whole car shakes as she struggles to right herself. 

Alex makes it look  _ easy  _ as she puts a foot forward and slips through the gap, graceful as a cat before joining Sam on the back seat, tugging the blanket behind her. 

“So smooth,” she teases. Sam doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. 

After a bit more jostling, they find a way to get the blanket over the both of them. If it involves them both leaning against each other, then so be it. 

Everyone has to make sacrifices sometimes. 

Sam has an arm around Alex, and as a guy gets brutally murdered and ketchup-coloured blood sprays through his chest, she notices that Alex’s skin is cold. 

She runs her hand along Alex’s forearm, down to her hand. A gentle, tentative touch, and Alex glances up at her at the unexpected contact of warm, soft fingers against her skin. 

“Is this okay?” Sam asks, pausing with her fingers on the back of Alex’s hand. 

Alex blinks up at her, before stretching out her fingers so that Sam’s hand overlaps her own, and they can link their hands together. “Yes,” she says, as if it’s so simple, so obvious, so  _ easy _ . Then her eyes sparkle with amusement, and she squeezes Sam’s fingers once. “How’s your butt doing? Did I push you too hard?” 

So that was how she went sprawling. She scowls at Alex, and the other woman laughs at the expression on her face. “No. My butt is fine. My ego however... I genuinely thought that would be easier,” 

“It’s okay. Nobody else witnessed it,” 

“But still...- you saw,” 

“It’s only me,” Alex says, and pulls Sam’s arm closer around her body. 

Sam’s sweater is soft and warm and smells of her, of the forest, of honey and cinnamon. Sam basically radiates heat, and it’s only natural for Alex to want to get closer to her when the air outside has gone cold. 

And Sam’s hand is in hers, warming it up. She doesn’t think she’ll get over how  _ soft  _ Sam’s hands are, so unlike her own, Alex feels so incredibly in tune with every point where their hands meet, where that warmth is shared. 

Sam doesn’t live a life like she does. She’s not the kind of person that Alex has ever had the chance to really be close to like this. A different life entirely, no crime, no guns, no fighting to stay alive and to keep the peace. 

“It was nice of you to invite me to come out with you two today,” it feels like she hasn’t said anything in a while, and Sam’s gone strangely quiet, content with just holding her and studying the fingers of her right hand. “You didn’t have to do this, “

“I mean... if I didn’t, I would have been alone in the car, which isn’t as fun,” Sam explains, and Alex feels her shrug before she wraps her arms around Alex properly. “Besides, I wanted to,” 

She wanted to. Alex tries not to get her hopes up, but damn is it hard to keep them down when Sam’s holding her like this, when she’s saying things like this. 

“I don’t have a lot of people that I... I don’t have anyone that I’m close to like this. Like I am with you,” Sam’s eyes are on her, searching her face with that open honesty. She doesn’t hide her feelings, or maybe she can’t — maybe she never learned how, she never needed to. 

Or maybe it’s just around  _ her _ , and she’s got the same thing that Alex has. An inability to lie around her. 

“Me neither,” 

When she’s with Sam like this, it’s like she understands that people aren’t really made to be alone, not entirely. She doesn’t  _ need  _ to be close to her, not in the sense that she will die without her. Life is just...  _ better _ with her in it. 

Sam gives her hand another squeeze, and Alex looks up to see her eyes sparkling in the reflected light from the movie screen. 

She’s bathed in flickering light, and Alex can’t breathe. 

It would be so  _ easy _ just to close the distance now, wouldn’t it? To bring their lips together, to feel her kiss. 

And of course, Sam’s eyes have to flicker down too when they’re like this, and Sam’s already leaning close to her, isn’t she? With her arm around Alex like that, Alex only has to lean up, and their lips will touch. 

They’re so close. The sounds of the movie go quiet as well, there’s a voice speaking in the background in hushed tones, sounding grainy through the radio speakers in Sam’s old car.

Sam lowers her head just a bit, and as Alex leans up to meet her, their noses brush, and she feels Sam holding her breath too. Waiting for something to give, as they draw closer into each other’s orbit, delaying the inevitable. 

But then Sam pulls away, and Alex feels cold in her absence. The air rushes back into her lungs, and she feels the rest of the world come crashing back in, as Sam gives her an apologetic smile, drawing away from her. 

“The credits,” she says, in lieu of a proper explanation, and it doesn’t register in Alex’s mind why Sam would be pulling away, would be taking her arm back and bringing the space back between them until there’s a loud  _ thud _ against the window behind Sam. 

Ruby’s hands are flat on the window, and she grins as they both jolt a little at the surprise. 

“Mom! Jane invited me to a sleepover can I go? Her mom’s here and everything!” 

Maybe it was for the best that she didn’t kiss Sam in front of her daughter. That would have been... probably a little too fast. 

They share another glance before Sam turns to open the door and listen to Ruby excitedly ramble about a sleepover. “You know her mom. There are a few other kids going from soccer. Yeah her mom will be there. It’ll be fine come  _ on _ ,” 

-

Ruby goes with her friend over to the sleepover, which leaves Sam and Alex alone when Sam drives over to Alex’s to drop her off. 

Alex gives her the address, and they make their way in an almost comfortable silence. Neither of them feel particularly pressured to talk, but there’s a tension in the air, one that doesn’t want to go away. 

It’s the same tension from before. That  _ anticipation _ , and they can both feel it. It doesn’t get better, not even as Sam pulls up next to Alex’s house, and leaves the car idling until it’s too much to bear. 

“Come here,” Sam caves and holds out her arms, and Alex relishes in the warm hug she gives her, the little squeeze and shake too like she doesn’t want to let Alex go.

She buries her smile into Sam’s shoulder, and gives her a pat on the back before pulling away, and for a millisecond again she sees Sam’s eyes flicker down to her lips, and the action itself speaks louder than any words could. 

There’s  _ something  _ building between them, and it isn’t just Alex’s wishful thinking. 

“Sleep well,” She says to Sam, and watches as the woman takes a deep breath, sitting up straight and giving a brisk nod. 

“I will. No excuses for a bad sleep tonight. I’m turning in early,” she gives the steering wheel a squeeze, and gives Alex a tight smile. 

Alex glances at the clock, and decides it’s better that she doesn’t tell the other woman that it’s already eleven PM. She’s so determined - crushing her spirits like that feels needlessly cruel. 

She holds back a laugh, and says another goodbye. The cold night air doesn’t feel so cold when she’s still buzzing from all that’s happened. 

-

She’s about to turn off the light when a glimmer catches her eye. Just behind her gun, it sits there, taunting her. 

The energy that had followed her since the drive-ins, the pleasant hum of  _ life  _ underneath her skin just... fades. Slips away, as a cold wash of emptiness fills its place. 

She didn’t get rid of the ring. It’s still there. Like it’s- like it’s  _ waiting  _ for her to put it back on, like she’d just slipped it off for a little while, intending to put it back later. That was why she didn’t put it away in the first place, cause she’d always been wearing it. 

She tugs the drawer open, and slides the ring into it, closing the drawer again with a solid  _ thud _ once it lands somewhere in the clutter. 

The noise rings out with finality through the room. There’s no other sounds, save for the wind through the trees outside, and the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall. It’s quiet, night has set in, and it's time for sleep.

Her dreams are disconnected, fleeting things, but when she wakes up she feels her chest ache at the coldness of her bed, and the emptiness of her featureless room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't always reply individually but i just wanna thank all the people who left nice comments on the previous chapters. it's really motivating and i appreciate every single one <3 (also they help me get chapters out faster...)


	6. stalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex does some actual policework cause, after all, she's meant to be finding missing people.

On her wall is something incredibly more pressing than forgotten limp vegetables in the fridge, or the fact that she still doesn't know how to open the prehistoric oven in her kitchen, because she's never used it before. 

The case lingers in the back of her mind, connections between missing people, their habits, the people they frequented, the things they did. 

One thing seemed to be common, linking them all. There’d been a call about a disturbance at the Johnson farm, and she’d seen the wolf. 

Williams’ son had said that there’d been something strange too, the reports on the interview were quite vague, but said the boy had heard howling cries before his mother had left the house. After that, he’d said he’d seen something out in the trees, watching him. 

She’d seen the wolf, outside the Arias household. 

The only disappearances that didn’t seem to be connected were the two hikers, lost in the woods. It wasn’t uncommon, but it had been some time, and there wasn’t any progress. They were still missing, but the rangers had decided to take over the case, since they knew the wilderness better than anyone. 

There’s something there, something that she feels like she isn’t quite seeing, and it irks her, stays just beyond her grasp.Part of her doesn’t want to accept it as truth, the possibility that Sam may be the reason. She fights with herself over it, because Sam can’t be responsible. 

She’s too good, too kind, too loving. Not the kind of person to cause disappearances. 

There’s something she hasn’t looked at yet. The idea comes to her when she thinks of Sam, her old sweater, her vintage Cadillac and the broad-faced watch that doesn’t sit right on her slender wrist. 

There are other missing cases. Some that have never been solved. Cold cases, which her dad used to talk about. Some of them had been dismissed, casted off as just superstition, as coverups for the truth. 

She makes her way down the narrow staircase to the basement. The old bulb takes a few seconds to light after she flicks the switch, blinking in and out a few times before filling the space with long-shadowed amber light. 

She walks through more recent files to the things she knows would be relevant. Notes on some cold cases, with a familiar name written on a few of the files. 

Flicking through, she finds nothing much of interest, a few missing cases, not very fleshed out, the barebones witness statements leave Alex wanting more, and she flicks through paper that has softened over time, not noticing a person enter the room behind her until it’s too late. 

“Lieutenant Danvers,” J’onn’s voice startles her into quickly closing the report, and she _ knows  _ it’s suspicious, how she tucks that file back into the box in the wrong place. “Doing some reading?” 

“I’m just... yeah,” She turns around, and she sees his face fall when his eyes land on what she’s looking through. 

His name is right there on the front, still visible. 

_ J Danvers.  _

Her father’s old case files. She suddenly feels like she’s outside of her own body, watching from J’onn’s perspective. Alex, chasing the cryptid, chasing a ghost, following in her father’s footsteps. Doomed to make the same mistakes. 

She  _ knows  _ what it looks like, and before J’onn can speak to reprimand her, Alex beats him to the chase. 

“I know what you’re thinking-“ Alex starts, shaking her head and running a hand through her hair, she’s prepared for the rebuttal but instead she gets a rather plain sounding-

“Do you?” 

She looks up and he’s got his arms crossed. He levels her with one of those unreadable stares that makes Alex think he’d be  _ great  _ at poker. Impossible to decipher, she’s unsure if he’s weighing her truth, or just waiting her out. 

Then he moves to a box by her side, pulling it out and clapping his hand on the lid with a dull thud. A small cloud of dust billows from it when he does so. “Start here,” he says, and his smile is knowing, but she can sense that his cooperation is reluctant, she can seen the strain in the wrinkles by his eyes. “It’ll save you some time.” 

-

She drops a list of names next to Winn the next time he’s in the office, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, startled by the paper that flutters to a rest on the desk next to his R2D2 mug. He narrows his eyes at the paper, pulling one of Alex’s fingers up so he can read what the list says. His nose scrunches up, and he glances back at Alex with mild disgust at her scratchy handwriting. “You can really tell you were on your way to being a doctor,” 

She glares, and flicks him on the ear, and he lets out a startled yelp.  “Can it, Schott. Just... search them up,” and then, quieter, just to him, “If you need me to rewrite a few of the names I can-“ 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes and shrugging her off. “Excuse me? I can  _ read _ , thank you, and you severely underestimate my intel gathering skills,” 

He makes a show of stretching out his fingers, knuckles cracking before he shakes his hands out, tugging his chair forward. 

Alex rolls her eyes, but smiles all the same, and she slides up onto the desk beside him, resting a foot on the armrest of his chair as she looks back at his screen. He types fast, fingers flying over the keyboard as he enters names into their database, and the ancient desktop somehow manages to keep up somewhat. 

“So... anything in particular we’re looking for?” he asks, and Alex answers as she keeps an eye out for any prying eyes. 

“Last known locations, interesting news stories-“ 

“Define ‘interesting’,” 

“Anything to talk about... supernatural stuff,” she says, and Winn’s hands pause on the keys. 

“What, like aliens? Are you looking for alien abductions?” Winn’s eyebrows shoot all the way up, and he gasps loudly. “This is like the X-Files! You’re Scully, and I’m Mulder-“ 

“No. Don’t be stupid, there’s no such thing as aliens. I need you to look at things about the-“ she lowers her voice, staring pointedly at him so he understands the severity involved in keeping this quiet. “The  _ cryptid _ ,” 

Winn scoffs, and turns back to typing. “Okay, so you think  _ aliens  _ are fake, but you believe in the big scary monster in the woods,” 

Alex bats him upside the head, and he shoves her foot off his armrest. She hisses- “Keep your voice down!” and gets up off the desk. “Just... send me what you find in an email.” 

“Yes Ma’am,” Winn says mockingly, and as Alex seethes, he mutters under his breath- “Aliens  _ are  _ real.” 

-

She doesn’t bring the old case files to Eliza’s place. She knows what would happen if she saw her with them. It’d be worse than if she showed up in pieces after an accident. 

This was the kind of thing that Eliza had explicitly warned her against doing. She writes notes, and keeps them with her as she starts to hunt for a common theme within those disappearances. 

Winn pulls through, with an email with a single file attached, and a copy of the  _ ‘I want to believe’  _ poster as the body of the message. She barely holds back the urge to delete the message and respond with an angry rant because of his teasing, but he really did do some good work. 

She narrows down a list of seven mysterious disappearances to two names. 

The first one— 

"Julia Freeman," 

She finds her mother easy enough - she still lives in Midvale, according to her social media, which is rather open in the way normal people’s often are. She attends one of the local churches, seems to be rather popular with the congregation, active in a lot of church events. 

It doesn't take long for her to walk down to the building, just as the sun starts its descent. 

It's a place that she's never really been in much before. White panelled walls, a pointed steeple. She sees rows of pews, lined up to face the altar, behind which there is a stained glass window of blues, oranges and reds. 

The old building smells faintly musty, she can smell the spent wax and something like incense in the air. Sunrays trapped by the coloured windows illuminate little motes of dust, and her footsteps sound loud to her ears, echoing up to the dark panelled arched roof. 

It’s when she’s looking at the roof, and thinking of how sound bounces off surfaces to create echoes, that it starts. 

Alex has heard people sing before, she knows how sound works, but the woman’s voice that fills the room echoes with something deep in her chest. She’s rooted to the spot, as the first few solemn notes leave her, before she starts on the verse. 

She stands by the collection box, straightening out pamphlets and brochures. An older woman, hair streaked with shocks of silver, who pauses in her singing when she notices Alex standing there. 

Alex feels like she needs to explain her presence when she’s under the piercing gaze of this old woman. It feels like she’s looking right through her defenses, and she doesn’t know why that sets her on edge. 

She already knows why Alex is here, in the way that some people often know things. The way Eliza knows when she’s lying, the way J’onn can see through her tough exterior. 

She gives Alex a smile that wrinkles her eyes, and raises her eyebrows expectantly. Alex pauses, wringing her hands together before resting them on her hips. "Mrs Freeman?" she asks, but she knows she has the right woman. Mrs Freeman tilts her head, a small nod, and straightens herself up, standing up a little taller. "Your singing-... it’s beautiful,” 

“Why thank you, Lieutenant Danvers," her eyes glitter with a little bit of pride, and she waves a hand at Alex dismissively, turning back to her pamphlets a moment. "Huh, funny. Last time I said that, I was talking to someone a lot less pretty,” 

She’s busying herself by adjusting papers that are already neatly organised. “Do you mind if I just have a moment of your time?” Alex asks. 

Wrinkled hands pause, and the woman looks at Alex. The wrinkles around her eyes seem a little more pronounced, but her patient smile is still on her face. “Not at all. I figured it wasn’t just a social visit,” 

“Unfortunately, no.” 

“Is it about Julia?” 

“It is, yes. I just wanted to ask you a few questions. To learn about her case a little, from you,” Alex is sure to add that last bit, raising her eyebrows she gives Mrs Freeman the chance to rebuff her, but she doesn’t. 

Instead she ushers them both to sit down — “My legs aren’t as good as they used to be, not anymore they aren’t,” — and she starts to recount a lot of the things that Alex has read already in her file, simple facts, a few anecdotes. 

Her affection is clear. She talks about her daughter, her childhood, her presence, with something akin to reverence. The wistful smile on her face, as she turns her eyes towards the stained glass window behind the altar, the oranges and blues and reds almost making her face look softer,  _ younger.  _

One thing remains unclear, as Alex sits on the varnished wood beside her, and at a lull in the conversation when the woman is looking towards the image of her saviour, she softly asks— “You don’t want to find her? You were the one who called off the investigation,” 

She turns her eyes to look at Alex again, and Alex initially prepares herself for backlash. For something that doesn’t come, because a split second of grief flashes over her features before it’s replaced with that calm mask from before. 

She’s had  _ years  _ to deal with Julia’s disappearance. 

“If the Lord wanted to bring her back, he would have,” she says, and Alex can hear how rehearsed those words are. They feel like a mantra, and she sees a bit more of Mrs Freeman’s calm return. “My daughter had what you’d call... a  _ wild _ streak. She was always planning on leaving, never wanted to stay. Said there was too much world out there for her to be planning on sticking by the old town, so I should have expected for her to just run off someday,” 

“You still think there’s hope, though.” 

“Life works in funny ways sometimes. Maybe someday... someday she’ll be back. I just didn’t see the point in going out and searching for her, using all those people’s time, your father’s time.” 

Mrs Freeman gives her a knowing look, and a shiver rushes up her spine. Alex looks down, breaking line of sight with Mrs Freeman before she decides to change the subject. “What was she like?” 

“She was the best of me. The best thing I’ve ever made in my life.” She seems willing to talk about Julia. Thankfully, she lets the fact that her father worked on this case aside for the moment. “But then eventually — she started to have these little... maybe it was just her being a teenager, but she’d have these little mood swings. These moments where she’d act- I’d say  _ spaced out  _ but that isn’t quite right. She just started to grow distant, and then eventually...” 

“She disappeared.” 

Mrs Freeman gives a small nod, hand moving up to the thin gold chain she has around her neck. “She finished her music degree up in the city, and came back here. Said she was drawn to this place, to the people. She felt more at home here than she did in the big city, but I think she would have been better off back there,” 

She shakes her head at that, looking up at the stained glass window again. Now, instead of youthful in her hope, something weighs down on her, and deep lines track from the corners of her mouth as she frowns. 

“This town is  _ cursed _ . Not your biblical kind of cursed. No amount of praying can fix it, and yes I know that’s ironic for me to say, considering I’ve put myself in this church nearly every day. I just think that it can’t get any  _ worse  _ if I’m out here doing my best to help,” 

Alex glances over at her, and the woman smiles almost matronly at her, giving her a comforting pat on one well-toned shoulder. 

“Just like you’re out there. Helping out,” She gives Alex a solid shake, and Alex can’t help the smile that spreads on her own at the gesture of comfort from a woman she doesn’t know. 

The conversation fades off around there, and after a while, Alex stands at the doors of the old chapel. 

“Thank you, Mrs Freeman,” 

The older woman waves a hand, going back to rest on one of the long wooden pews, like she had been when Alex first entered. “Please, it’s nothing. I just ask that you be careful, asking so many questions about missing people in this town. The superstitious types always like to talk,” 

She doesn’t think much of it at the time when she says it, but when she’s leaving the big wooden doors, out into the brisk fall air, she notices a pair of elderly people, pausing to look at her curiously. She keeps a straight face, and gives them a brisk nod. The old man, with his checkered shirt and wrinkle lined face, pulls a polite smile before continuing his walk. 

Their eyes stay on her though, she feels them on her back till she gets to her car. 

And it’s not just them. 

Over the next week, she notices the looks. She’s never really been able to get by unnoticed in Midvale. She could pretend, but the people in the bar always knew who she was, even if they left her alone. They knew she was Lieutenant Danvers, daughter of the late Lieutenant Danvers. 

And now she is asking questions about people long missing, from cases which her dad oversaw. It’s not a minefield, but a boneyard. She has to tread light, lest she disturb the remains of those meant to be at rest. She’s constantly aware that every clatter of old bone that she uncovers could be releasing ghosts that would haunt her just like those that caused her father’s death. 

But she has to  _ know _ . She’s curious, and she knows she has a job to do. She’s a cop, first and foremost, and she has a town to protect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep commenting if you want to see more! i'd love to hear your thoughts on what's happening and where the story might be headed. it helps clear my thoughts (i always end up having ridiculous ideas as to what i want to include in a story when i start writing)


	7. den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sam is sweet and warm and smells good. so good she unintentionally throws alex off the scent of what she’s meant to be doing. 
> 
> also - donuts, dates, and decluttering alex’s kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to the kind souls that took the time out of their day to leave comments on the last chapter. <3 lots of love to you all

Things start to slide downhill from that point. The drive-ins were a beacon of hope, a little spark of brightness in an otherwise dreary six month period, but the universe is never kind. As the weather gets colder, drearier, and October reaches its end, the pressure builds around Midvale PD. 

It's understandable. Four missing people, no leads, no clues, nothing but Alex's hunch. J'onn is getting anxious, no matter how he tries to seem like he's unphased, Alex can see it in the way his shoulders sit, the way he runs his hand over his face when he sits at his desk. She's become good at reading him. 

He's also become good at reading her. 

He notices the slip in her mood, because of course he does, and he knows it isn't just because of the case. It isn't just seasonal depression. 

It's again, on another patrol, that he brings it up. They’re parked in the middle of town, and Alex is just about to go get herself some donuts. She can see people milling about, going on their daily business. People stopping for coffee. A child tugs at their parent's hand to jump on a dancing autumn leaf, just to hear it crunch underfoot. 

As something tugs at her chest, she prepares herself for J’onn’s disappointment. She expects to be torn down again. She expects for J’onn to pull the fatherly concern again, to bring up the fact that she’s taken a dive since a week ago. 

She’s about to leave, but J’onn stops her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Alex,” he says, in that weighty way that means he’s about to start to get a little preachy, “I can see that you’re trying to move on,” 

The first thing that’s on her lips is defensive. That she’s not  _ trying _ , that she’s  _ fine _ . She stops herself from saying it though when she sees he’s genuinely happy with her for once. 

It’s not like last time. He isn’t putting her on the spot. He isn’t forcing her to change, or anything. He’s...  _ proud  _ of her, and she doesn’t get why. It feels like she’s been slipping the past couple of days, with little conversation from Sam, and the case taking up all her time. 

“If you need anything, anything at all, don’t forget we’re here for you. We all are.” 

Alex draws her mouth into a tight-lipped smile. He gets it, that it’s awkward for her, that she doesn’t know what to say, so he takes out his wallet, and hands her a ten-dollar note. 

“Now get me a cup of coffee, and some cinnamon donuts while you’re at it,” 

That she can do. “Sure thing,” she takes the money, and slips it into a pocket as she gets out of the car. 

Today’s one of those cloudy fall days, where the sky almost looks like it’s been covered in a wooly grey blanket. It’s not that cold, but there’s a chill in the air, and it picks up some of the leaves falling from the trees in the square. 

The bell above the donut shop rings as she steps through, and she’s hit by warmth and the smell of cinnamon and sugar. The coffee here is overly sweet, and they only seem to make the one type of it, but the donuts are to  _ die  _ for. 

She’s standing by the cabinet, looking at the choices. She knows that J’onn only ever asks for a single cinnamon donut, as fresh as possible. 

She knows she’ll probably go for a four pack, so she can share a few with Winn. She’s just about to go up the front to ring the bell to order when a pair of arms wrap around her midsection, holding her tight. 

Alex tenses, and her arms are already flying up to grab the arms around her when she feels coarse-knit wool under her fingertips, and catches the soft brushing of familiar hair against her shoulder as a female form pulls up behind her. 

_ Sam.  _

“Hello,” she’s amused at catching Alex by surprise, and as her arms draw back, Alex swivels around to level her with a glare. 

It’s not something that lasts on her face. It can’t — not when she sees Sam’s face, the goofy grin on her face that spreads across her face, the sparkle in her eye. 

She hasn’t been around for a while, and in her presence Alex’s disgruntlement fades. 

“Don’t-  _ Sam _ ,” she gives an exasperated sigh, and tries not to be taken by the way she brushes a lock of hair from her face, raising her eyebrows like she’s seen nothing wrong with what she just did. “I could have thrown you,” 

“I’d like to see you try,” she draws herself up to her full height, and puffs out her chest with a cocky smirk. “I’ll have you know that I’m very tough, and also taller than you,” 

“I’ve taken people twice my size. I think I could take you,” it’s not a brag, it’s the truth, but Sam tosses her head back and laughs, nudging her before turning to look at the donuts in the case. 

The baker walks in, probably called in by Sam’s laugh. She’s not shy about laughing, she doesn’t seem to be shy about much - except for when they were in the car together. 

Alex puts her order in, and so does Sam. She orders a half-dozen and a ridiculously large mocha with a shot of caramel, and Alex wonders where she puts all that. 

The baker leaves to get their orders and make their coffees, around the corner again, and they’re left to their own devices in the wood paneled room. 

It’s then a silence falls, the playful banter gone, and Sam’s expectant eyes on her. Alex wants to tell her something, wants to bring up their almost-kisses, wants to tell her that she’s happy to see her,  _ something _ , but Sam beats her to it. 

“Two coffees? One of those days, is it?” 

Alex snorts out a laugh. How bold of her to pick on her when she ordered something that’s mostly sugar. “No, I’m bringing one out for the captain. He’s waiting out in the car,” 

“Oh,” Sam says, and when Alex smiles at her, she smiles back. 

Those questions still stay on her tongue, but she can’t bring herself to ask, because this doesn’t feel like the right time. She wants to, though, and it burns at her as Sam’s eyes wander around the room, and she takes in the decor. 

Her eyes rest for a moment on a wall calendar, before she turns around to look at Alex. “What are you doing for Halloween?” 

And then it hits her. In her focus on the case, on the cryptid, on  _ Sam _ , she’d forgotten. Contextualised, she understands now. Why every day has been weighing down on her, bit by bit, day by day, and why she felt like she was slowly edging towards her breaking point. 

There are times when she misses Jeremiah more than others. 

“Nothing,” Alex says, and when Sam’s face lights up, she feels a bitter taste in the back of her mouth, knowing she’s going to cause that smile to leave her. “But I’ll be at my mom’s. I’m... not free,” 

“Oh, oh that’s okay,” Sam seems a little put out by the answer, but after wringing her hands together she looks up at Alex again with that hopeful warmth in her eyes relit. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been okay. Better than usual,” she doesn’t know why she says it, but it makes Sam look happier for some reason. “Have you been sleepwalking again?” 

And then that little happiness is crushed by Alex’s question, and she wonders why she’s so bad at socialising. 

“I- the other night. After we came back from the movies, I was feeling so tired so I went to sleep early, but then...” she shakes her head, and there’s a furrow in her brow. 

“Where’d you wake up?” 

“In the living room, at least, but the back door was open, and I’d-“ she’s interrupted by the baker, who comes out and starts organising their respective orders. 

Their window is coming to a close. Alex needs to get back to J’onn, but she lingers, and Sam does too. 

They can’t stay like this forever though. They both have places to be, lives to get on with. Alex has her coffees in one hand, the box of donuts in the other, and she figures she might as well be bold for once, before Sam leaves again. 

“Are you doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, and as Sam turns to look at her, she tilts her head to one side. “You can come by mine if you’re free-“ 

That bright grin spreads across her face again, and she’s quick to respond. “I’d like that. I’d really like that,” 

It’s infectious. Alex smiles too. 

They part ways after they decide on a time, and Alex is halfway through walking to the patrol car when she realises her house? Is an absolute disaster zone. 

-

Sam makes her way into her house, and within a few seconds after a brief hug and a greeting by the door, she’s decided that Alex needs to clean. 

And she thought she’d done a good job. “I didn’t invite you over so you could criticise my life choices and clean my house for me,” she says, and okay- maybe she’s a bit defensive. It’s a lot though, she’d intended on sharing a drink and maybe watching an old movie on her crappy TV for the nostalgia factor, she didn’t think she’d have Sam rolling up her sleeves to clean her kitchen. 

“Then why  _ did  _ you invite me over?” 

“So we could spend some time together,” 

“Well... this way, we’re spending time together, and being productive,” Sam counters, tossing a cloth in Alex’s direction. She catches it, and wonders when she even bought them. “So that when you invite a woman that you like over, she won’t be scared off by the fact that you live in a dump,” 

Sam goes back to scrubbing at a stain on the backsplash, and Alex frowns, glancing about the rest of the space. “It’s not a dump, and it’s not scaring off any women. You’re in here, aren’t you?” 

“I am,” Sam raises an eyebrow, and a knowing smile spreads on her face. 

Alex quickly turns around, finds a spot on the counter, and tries to hide her blush at her own slip up. 

Sam’s the type of person who likes to listen to music when she works, and Alex would have never considered cleaning to be intimate, but it feels like it. Sam is in her space, and moving around her, and even dancing and singing along to the radio at times. 

Sam doesn’t stop until the kitchen is clean. A few nasty smelling leftovers are thrown out of her fridge, and Sam even wipes down the shelves in there. It’s the cleanest she’s ever seen her kitchen, even cleaner than when she’s got it. Sam has a way of brightening up a space, physically and literally, and Alex swears it’s like the clouds have parted, and she can finally see this space as  _ her  _ kitchen and not just a kitchen that she sometimes uses. 

Sam rests her hands on her hips, and nods at a job well done. “Great. Now keep it this way,” 

“You know, my mom would love you,” Alex says it because it’s true, and it’s only after she says it, and Sam turns to face her with that little smile on her lips that she realises how it sounds, and she’s quick to move on from it. “She’s been hounding me over this for the past six months. Since I got the place, really.” 

“Well, you should listen to your mom. She was right. I’m surprised you didn’t get sick, or burn this place down,” She glances over at the cooktop, which no longer has large burnt circles around each hob. Alex had thought that the surface had just burnt, but no, the surface was  _ underneath _ all the burnt stuff. 

“Well... in case you couldn’t tell by the leftovers, I don’t actually cook,” she takes a step over to the microwave, and gives it a loving pat. 

Sam’s face sours before she lets out a wry laugh, leaning back against the counter. “How have you survived for so long like this?” She says, and that’s a question that Alex asks herself every day. 

She just shrugs, and Sam shakes her head, crossing her arms and glancing over at the fridge. “I’m guessing I’m not getting a homecooked meal tonight,” 

“If by ‘homecooked’ you mean microwaved, then you’d be right. I’m ordering pizza,” 

“Thank God,” Sam clutches at her chest, and they both share a laugh. “No offense, I’m pretty sure your microwave game is  _ strong _ , but...” 

“None taken,” Alex shakes her head, and gestures to the sofa. “Go on ahead, I’ll get you something to drink?” 

“I’ll take a glass of that red, if you’re offering,” Sam nods her head towards the liquor cabinet, and Alex smiles. 

“Of course. Anything, after you literally redid my kitchen,” 

 

They get glasses of wine, and the pizza comes soon afterwards. Sam sits cross-legged on the couch, her boots by the door. 

As she eats, Alex notes that her eyes wander over the map she has, spread out over the living room wall. The strings and notes she’s pinned up, that all outline the sightings of the wolf, the places where it’s travelled, the search areas for the missing hikers. 

“I didn’t know people actually made things like that,” she says as Alex walks over to the living room. “You know. Outside of movies. It’s pretty cool,” 

Alex figures it does kind of look like that. She pauses, wineglass in hand, and has a look at her handiwork. 

“It’s a great way to visualise the whole case at once, with all the evidence laid out like this. I could never do this back in the city, but I wanted to,” she glances back, and realises that Sam is now standing behind her, close enough to touch if she wanted to. “I used to spread my notes out on the floor of our apartment sometimes, it drove my fiancee crazy,” 

Sam notices the way Alex's face falls after she mentions her again, but it isn’t as much of a sad thing as it is a quiet kind of acceptance. The moment passes, and Sam is drawn to the map, the notes, which are organised with colours and particular symbols that she doesn’t quite understand. 

Her voice is quiet when she asks - “Can you... explain this to me? If it isn’t confidential of course,” 

“I can explain it to you. It’s kind of boring though,” Alex glances over her shoulder at her again, but she seems hesitant, so Sam tries to coax her into it by giving her a little bit of a nudge. 

“I want to know, cause maybe... maybe I could help. I might know some things, you learn a  _ lot  _ from hanging around in the PTA and helping out with people’s finances. Business owners talk,” She carefully doesn’t mention what the fisherman had said about Alex’s father, even though she’d have the perfect segue into a conversation about it. 

“You didn’t come here to listen to this though,” Alex huffs out a laugh, shaking her head before taking a gulp of her wine. 

“What? Why not? I love this, it’s like a real life mystery,” She didn’t tell her that also listening to her explain this entire setup was kind of hot. Police work sounded difficult, but this was like something straight out of a paranormal mystery novel.

That would make Alex the dashing, cool yet sensitive detective. Sam could see her on the cover, staring out into the dark, gun in hand, curved silhouette outlined by the moonlight. Maybe she read too many trashy romance novels. 

Alex goes over the barebones, leaving a few details out. Personal things about the missing people, the names of a few persons of interest, the locations where she’s seen the wolf, the fact that a few of the red markers relate to her motorcycle accident. 

She feels like she’ll judge her for that, either that or she’ll get worried, which is worse. She keeps things nice and vague, and finishes off with a simple statement- “It’s boring.“

Sam’s nose wrinkles, and she scoffs. “You know what’s boring? My job. I deal with paperwork and numbers,” She shakes her head in disbelief at Alex in front of her, standing and shrugging as if the fact that she's dealing with cryptids and missing people is... just par for the course in her daily life. “You get to go around and chase perps and go out on the beat and like, solve crimes. That’s pretty cool,” 

“It’s not as cool as it sounds, especially not in a small town like Midvale,” Alex peels away and walks over to the couch, taking a seat. Sam follows to sit next to her, and she tries not to pry, she really doesn't, but she's  _ curious _ about this woman. 

“Was the city cop life better?” 

“In some ways, yeah. Never really a dull moment. But it was easy to get lost in it, easy to lose track, you know? You’re just another cop there, out of hundreds, trying to work in a place that’s understaffed, underpaid, and rife with problems,” 

She can’t look at Sam now, can’t look at her open and honest eyes, her gentle smile, not when she feels that slight twinge of pain. Memories of National City always bring her back to thinking about Maggie-

But she shouldn’t let that bring her down. Not now. She takes a gulp of her wine, and puts the glass back on the table, and she brings herself to look at Sam. 

“At least here, I’ve got time to breathe. It’s still not easy but... it’s  _ slower, _ and I think I needed the change of pace for a little while,” 

She notices then that Sam has been running her palms over her thighs, back and forth over her jeans. There’s a slight chill in the air, the temperature must have been dropping for a while, because she didn’t notice it with the wine there to warm her up. 

"I'm sorry. The heater- I could put it on, but I never do," Mostly because it had never really been cold enough, and the first time she'd used it, a rather unpleasant scent had risen from it and she'd decided that it'd be better off for her health and safety if she avoided using it at all costs. "Something died in it, I think."

Sam looks about halfway to saying  _ 'yikes' _ but she doesn't, she only glances about the space, formulating a plan. "We could make a blanket fort. To keep us warm,"

"Aren't we a little old for-" 

"You're never too old for a blanket fort. I'm disappointed in you for even suggesting such a thing, c'mon," Sam is entirely convinced that this is a good idea, so Alex goes along with it, getting blankets and pillows while Sam sets up the couch in a very dedicated manner. 

Alex pauses with her arms full of blankets when she notices Sam on the couch, kneeling with the sleeves of her sweatshirt rolled up, trying to set the cushions of the couch just right so they’ll catch the sheets that she’s collected. She’s entirely focused on what she’s doing, even if her actions are a little imprecise, and the tip of her tongue sticks out from between her lips as she concentrates. 

Sam notices her just watching her, and Alex feels like she needs to cover for her staring. “You’re- you know a lot about this,” 

“When Ruby was- well, when she was a lot smaller, we used to make these all the time,” Sam explains, gesturing for Alex to bring the blankets over. “It was her favourite thing, and it was something I did for her when things were tough to sort of... distract her. You can’t be sad while you’re in a fort. It’s against the rules,” 

The way she says it makes Alex smile. 

“It was kind of a way of covering up the tough times with something happier but as she got older, I dunno,” Sam shakes her head, pulling her legs up closer beneath her. Her chin rests on her knees, and she gives Alex a wry little smile. “I think she started to see through it. That I was just trying to hide all the times I fucked up,” 

“Hey now,” Alex shifts closer, shaking her head as she tries to meet Sam’s eyes. “I’m sure you didn’t stuff up as bad-“ 

Sam gives out a sigh, and closes her eyes, as that familiar guilt settles in her throat, and she forces out the words. 

“You don’t know how many mistakes I’ve made. I know it’s par for the course of being a mom but... I just want to give Ruby what I didn’t have. And I’ll always feel like I’ve failed her, because when she was little I could barely keep us both alive. She didn’t deserve to have such a rough start,” 

She opens her eyes, expecting judgement, but she sees none of it in Alex’s gaze. 

“You’ve never really told me much about when Ruby was little,” 

“That’s because there’s not much to say. I barely remember it, because I was always so  _ busy _ ,” 

She holds herself back, measuring her words. It is something she doesn’t speak much of, she hasn’t spoken much of to anyone save for her only friend back in National City. 

“I was in and out of jobs. I started out in a shelter, and it took me a while to get on my feet, to get a place before she was born. I had to work to support us both, to support myself too when I was trying to finish my high school diploma, then through college but it felt like every time I got us off the ground someway, we’d end up right back on the streets,” It’s an admission that weighs heavy on Sam, and by the time she’s finished, and the words hang in the air, she feels a bit of it lift, especially when she sees Alex’s eyes, still free of judgement. 

“You did the best you could,” Alex knows she could reach across right now, she could grab Sam’s hand, but she doesn’t. “You did so much, if you managed to get to where you are now. You’re both alive, and healthy, and she’s the happiest kid I’ve ever met. You can’t beat yourself up over things that were out of your control,” 

Sam shakes her head, trying for levity to fight off the growing lump in her throat. She’s not unused to kindness, but it feels like she doesn’t deserve it, and she tries for levity with a light huff of laughter.  “I’m surprised I haven’t scared you off yet. I was a mess- I still am,” 

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder to scare me,” she says with a chuckle, “We’ve all fucked up, Sam. Nobody’s perfect,” 

Sam looks at her, and the unspoken -  _ ‘but I should be’  _ rings out between them, it glistens in her eyes. Alex can see that they’re not so dissimilar after all. Sam isn’t perfect, even though to Alex she is. She’s flawed. She’s  _ trying _ . 

“You’re great. Just the way you are right now. With how much you try for Ruby,” Alex says, and her words are soft. “The world threw a lot of shit at you that you shouldn’t have had to deal with and instead of it turning you bitter and cynical like me-“ 

“You’re not-“ 

“-you didn’t let it get the better of you. You stayed  _ kind _ ,” 

“You’re not bitter and cynical,” Sam rubs her hand over Alex’s shoulder, a gesture of reassurance accompanied by another one of those kind smiles. 

The weight eases, the tension lifts from the air as the warmth replaces it. 

“Not to me at least. Not to Ruby either. You just take a little longer to warm up to people,” -and if she leans into the touch, well. There isn’t much in the way of space in their tiny little fortress, and Sam draws her in closer, resting her chin on her shoulder. Then a thought comes in her mind, when she’s folded herself into Sam’s arms like she’s done several times before. 

“Hm, is that why you’ve been obsessed with keeping me warm?” 

“What?” Sam reels back just a bit, confusion painting her features. 

“You ask me if I’m cold every time we hang out together. I don’t really feel that cold,” 

Sam nudges Alex away from herself playfully. “And yet every time I’ve asked, you come and snuggle up against me. So, what’s the truth?" 

The gesture brings a laugh out of Alex, and when she pushes Sam back, it’s not strong at all, and Sam barely budges, so the gesture brings them closer more than anything. “No, I get it. It’s a way to get me to cuddle up to you,” 

“Yes,” Sam nods, trying to keep things carefully neutral, but Alex can see it happening again. “Everyone needs a hug sometimes,” 

“So you’re trying to get me to warm up to you by hugging me, and getting me underneath blankets,” Alex teases, and when Sam laughs this time, she falls back into the cushions, covering her face. “You do know the whole ‘warming up’ thing is a figure of speech, right?” 

Alex leans over her, to see if she’ll uncover her eyes. She doesn’t for a moment as the giggles subside, and Alex  _ swears _ Sam is blushing for a different reason as she pulls her hands away from her face for a brief moment. 

“Well, is it working?” she asks, and the hopeful little smile that grows as Alex stares down at her makes her heart race. 

“It might be,” Alex admits, and Sam’s eyes widen just a little. It’s a brief flash of surprise, of recognition, before the playfulness returns in full force, and Sam’s reaching up to brush her fingers against Alex’s cheek. 

This is it. 

It’s gotta be it. 

“Are you cold?” Sam asks, and Alex wants to tell her that the shiver she just saw wasn’t because of the temperature, it’s because of the anticipation, it’s because of the tenderness of Sam’s touch, the feeling of her fingertips ghosting over her skin, which feels all too sensitive for a touch so chaste and so light. “Your face is all red,” 

“It’s not because I’m cold,” she chuckles, and that pounding in her chest only grows. “It’s because of  _ you _ ,” 

“I make you cold?” 

“No. You make me flustered, and I just- I just-" 

Alex leans into her, and to stop her rambling, she brushes her lips against Sam’s. 

She feels Sam gasp, loud with how close Sam is to her. For a second, the thought that she’s overstepped, that she’s read things wrong, shoots through her mind, and she starts to pull back. 

But Sam follows, and her hand slides from Alex’s cheek to the short hair at the back of her head, drawing her in for a proper kiss. Soft lips meet, and it’s Alex’s turn to gasp, as Sam leans up into her, propped up on an elbow. 

Her lips taste of the sour bite of cheap red wine and something a little sweeter, something that can't be named. Sam’s lips caress her own and she draws Alex in like a riptide, luring her in with the illusion of stillness, and keeping her there with a current that drags her into the deep. 

Shallow kisses, soft first kisses that tease and satiate that initial curiosity lead to something hotter when Sam’s tongue strikes against her lower lip, a hot and wet pressure accompanied by a sharp inhale from someone as Alex’s lips part— they are both too affected to know. The wet noises of their lips meeting is impossibly loud, but only for them to hear, enclosed in the privacy of the blankets around them. 

Every time their lips meet and move against each other, she learns something new. She learns that Sam's lips are soft and pliant beneath her own. She learns the sound of Sam’s laboured breathing, as they kiss, and kiss again. She learns what her smile feels like against her lips, she understands what it feels like, to share the same air as her. 

Alex throws her leg over Sam, sliding over to straddle her and feels Sam's reaction in the form of another smile against their kiss. Her hands slide down Alex’s body, travelling over the fabric of her shirt, down to her waistline — and she guides Alex’s hips down onto her own. Now the tone shifts, from a tentative exploration, testing the waters, to something deeper, more desperate. 

Sam moves to roll them over, her hands hold Alex closer, pressed up against her body. Alex feels her move a bit, wriggling beneath her before she bursts out into a laugh against Alex's lips. Alex doesn’t quite understand what Sam is trying to accomplish until she shakes herself out of her kiss-induced haze and pulls back. She sees her brow furrowed in concentration a moment before she tries to push Alex over. 

She is unsuccessful. 

“I thought you said you were strong,” Alex teases, and she can’t help but enjoy toying with the woman when she’s lying beneath her like this, as flustered as she feels. Her face is flushed, her hair is fanned out beneath her, and her lips are kiss-reddened and glistening. 

“Shut up, and work with me,” 

Alex gives in when Sam pouts, she holds Sam’s sides, and rolls over, taking her with her as she tumbles into the pillows, sending some of them flying. Sam lands heavily on top of her, and Alex's cheeks hurt from smiling as the woman laughs, floundering for a minute, the wind taken out of her. She scrambles against the surface of the pillows beneath, trying to get her hands under her, and when she finally does she pushes herself up victoriously, smiling down at Alex, her slightly mussed hair falling about her face. 

She looks angelic. The diffuse light from outside the fort illuminates her silhouette, the soft shadows on her face make her smile all the more beautiful. 

It's then that the sheets, disrupted by their fumbling, come wafting down to rest over the two of them. 

Alex’s laugh is loud and inelegant, and it fills Sam’s chest with an inexplicable warmth, one that she can’t quite define. 

It defies rationality, it is beyond what she can comprehend — she doesn’t know where it comes from, she doesn’t know why it’s there. All she knows is that she wants to hear that laugh again. She wants to see her smile like this all the time, with a flush beneath the smattering of nearly invisible freckles over the bridge of her nose, with dark eyes that glimmer, impossibly reflective. 

She wants, but it isn’t  _ want  _ alone that has her chest feeling like her ribs were made too tight to hold her heart. It’s something more, it’s something deeper, something that draws up unchecked emotions, it draws up her fear and her worry, it draws up years of loneliness, and it fills their place with something else. 

They emerge from the deflated fort a few moments later, after Sam gets a text from Ruby, saying that the birthday party is winding down, and she’s ready to be picked up. It’s a swift and heavy reminder that makes Sam settle somewhat, draw back from Alex and remember the rules she’d set for herself, even through the amused laughter they share. 

She wasn’t going to fall too fast, not even for a small-town cop who drove around town on a motorcycle but still wanted to kiss her in a blanket fort. She was going to take her  _ time _ , and get to know Alex fully. She wasn’t going to repeat past mistakes, and fall too hard, too fast, for someone who wouldn’t fit in with her life. 

Even if it felt like she’d always had a space for Alex in her life, just waiting for the woman to come along to fill that role. 

“Sorry to cut this short but-“ Sam says by the door, and they’re both stalling. 

Alex shakes her head, resting a hand on Sam’s cheek for a moment. “Don’t apologise. I’ll see you around,” When she smiles, Sam sees her lips are still damp from their kisses. When she leans in again, all thoughts of taking things slow leave her mind. 

This kiss is a soft and sweet goodbye, and Sam is struck by the desire to have this as part of her every day. Her lips caress her own, her hand guides Sam’s jaw, but it doesn’t go deeper. Alex pulls back, and Sam blinks through the white-picket-fenced haze to see Alex with an amused smirk, arching an eyebrow at her reaction. 

“Oh- yeah. I’ll... I’ll see you,” she stammers, and then she heads off. 

Alex leans against the back of the door once she’s out, staring at her empty living room with wide eyes. Only the presence of two glasses on the coffee table, the mess of sheets, and the tingling of her lips tells her that this was real — she isn’t dreaming. 

-

Sitting at home that evening, Sam is barely able to fall asleep. There's a humming in her bones, a buzzing underneath her skin. An anticipation as she stands now on the edge, ready to fall. 

She gets out of bed, and goes out to the porch. The door swings as she leaves, and goes over to the porch swing. The lights in the planter boxes give off their dim multicoloured glows, and Sam can’t help but feel a longing for a certain someone to come and fill the space next to her on the seat in her own little sanctuary. 

The urge to smile is overwhelming, so she doesn’t fight it. She smiles until her cheeks burn as she stares out into the dimness of dusk, at the wavering shadows of the forest. It’s a youthful sort of excitement, something she hasn’t felt since- well. Hasn’t felt  _ ever,  _ if she’s being truly honest. 

There’s only one other person that she knows she can call who will be up at this time. The only other person that she  _ would  _ call. She needs to get this off her chest before it bubbles out as an excited squeal or something equally as embarrassing. 

Alex kissed her. She  _ kissed  _ her. 

She tucks herself in on the porch swing, and Lena is understandably confused as to why her best friend is calling at such a late hour when she’s on her sabbatical. She’s talked to her about Alex before, but she doesn’t get a chance to start the conversation when Lena gets in first. She grills her on a few things — asks her if it’s an emergency, if she’s safe and well, if everything’s fine with Ruby and Sam breezes through the answers before she gets a chance to finally blurt out- 

"I think I found it, Lena," 

_ "Found what?"  _ she asks, Sam can hear the eyebrow raise in her voice. 

"I... I think I found someone special. She’s different. I’ve never felt like this for anyone and I-“ 

_ "Sam,"  _ Lena’s sigh makes Sam pause. She isn’t-  _ exasperated  _ doesn’t feel like the right word, but she doesn’t hold the same amount of excitement as Sam holds right now, and it acts as a slight dampener on her mood.  _ "You know how easy it is for you to fall for people. You know how many times you've had your heart broken,"  _

"Stop being my conscience," Sam says with a chuckle, but it’s weak to her own ears. "I know it's stupid but... I just know. I feel it.” 

_ “I will be your brain, as long as you keep thinking with your-“  _

“Hey!” 

“ _ -heart... what did you think I was going to say?”  _ Lena sounds amused, and Sam quickly clears her throat, swapping the phone over to her other ear.

“... nothing. Listen, Lena-“ 

_ “No, Sam. You listen. To reason, for once in your life,”  _ she cuts her off, and Sam can tell she’s serious, by the tone of her voice. Those words are rather harsh, but she knows Lena well enough to know that they’re coming from a good place.  _ “I know you think I can be a little cold sometimes, but it wouldn’t do you any harm to slow down just a bit, to keep your distance. I’m worried about you,”  _

“You’re worried?” 

_ “Well, you left in quite the state, and now you’re out on your sabbatical, falling in love with a mysterious woman with an angsty backstory and a penchant for leather jackets-“  _

“Nobody said anything about love. It’s too early for that,” 

_ “But you’re already falling,”  _ she says, her voice is soft, but it resonates with that growing feeling in her chest, gives it a name. 

It feels a lot like  _ falling,  _ doesn’t it? The weightlessness. The butterflies in her stomach. She’s gathering speed, there’s enough time for her to pull the cord, to slow herself down, but she doesn’t feel like she wants to, not quite yet. 

“Is that so bad? To just... be reckless for once in my life?” her voice sounds weak to her own ears, it’s like she’s pleading — not only with Lena, but with herself. 

_ “I feel like you have a bad track record with recklessness,”  _

“Well- hey. I mean... I’ve been pretty good for the past twelve years. I think I deserve to be stupid for once,” 

_ “I just worry about you. You’re the best CFO I’ve ever had,”  _ Lena has always been one for the dramatic pause, and there’s one now, where Sam can almost picture her, piercing green eyes flickering between her own.  _ “You are also my best friend. I want to support you, but I don’t want to see you get hurt by falling too hard and too fast when you said this trip was only temporary,”  _

“Lena...” 

_ “Think about yourself first. Your mental health. Think about Ruby,”  _

Sam chuckles, but it doesn’t really feel genuine. “I can’t believe you pulled the Ruby card on me,” 

_ “Be careful, Sam _ . _ Remember you have to come back to reality eventually. _ ” 

Lena hangs up, and leaves Sam alone in the dark, rocking back and forth on the porch swing. The air feels a little too cold now, the sky is dark and heavy with clouds. She wraps herself in the rough knit blanket, and it drags behind her like a cloak as she steps on inside, flicking on the lights. 

Then she’s blinking away the sunlight from her eyes, a splitting headache searing through her as her heartbeat pulses in the back of her head. Rough wood beneath her head, the coarse blanket tangled around her legs. It’s the chirping of the birds that gets her to open her eyes, to stare at the patches of green between the slats in the porch fence. 

That, and the door slamming into her back. 

Once. Then it closes. 

A second time. And it closes again. 

A third time, before she throws a hand out and grabs the edge of the door. 

She hears the person on the other side gasp, before a pair of sneakers come into view. Ruby drops down in front of her, and her voice is way too loud for so early in the morning. “Mom! Why are you sleeping outside?” 

“Ugh,” is the very eloquent response that comes out of her mouth as Ruby helps her up into a sitting position. 

She’s certain she went back inside after calling Lena. She remembers flicking the switch, remembers walking in. 

Ruby’s hands grab the sides of her face, and she’s turning to face concerned eyes so much like her own. She pouts, tugging a stray piece of plant matter from her hair. “I thought you’d said you’d fix it. You’d get some help or something. A doctor,” 

“I did- I did. But it’s fine, baby. It’s fine,” She’s sitting up, and so it should be an easy progression to standing, but her bones ache and feel out of place. 

She leans in the doorway, and looks back to see Ruby still standing there. She’s already gotten herself ready for school, but she doesn’t want Ruby to worry too much, so she dismisses her with a wave of her hand. 

“Go get ready for school,” 

“But-“ Ruby tries to protest. 

“I’ll be  _ fine.  _ Pinky swear on it,” she shakes her head, and when she runs her hand through her hair she swears something crawls in it, which sends a shiver down her spine. She needs a deep conditioning. And hot water. “I just need a shower,” 

Ruby’s pout only grows, and she holds out a hand, pinky finger extended. The pinky swear is made with a solid lock and shake from Sam, and Ruby gives her a nod, lips drawn into a hard line. Sam feels the gravitas of the gesture weigh down on her when she meets Ruby's eyes. A pinky swear is a very serious and binding contract, but Sam knows she'll be fine. 

She has to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, that happened :P 
> 
> as always, thanks for reading, and please shower me with more attention. or just tell me how much you also miss sam.


	8. ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's halloween.   
> things get a little intense. 
> 
> a chapter (mostly) in alex's perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while!   
> i'm not abandoning this. i'm going to get this done :)

As the days get shorter, the nights grow colder, and people are drawn to the comforts of warm buildings and hot cars. The trees lose their leaves, and the citizens of Midvale don their jackets and scarves, because the biting breeze that comes off the sea can send chills all the way down to the bone. 

It’s a time of change. Alex can feel it in the air, and it’s all the more obvious with the fact that things have  _ changed  _ for her. 

Her life has changed so much since this time last year. 

It's about this time of year that Halloween comes along, children grow excited and decorations are visible in the streets, the whole town jumps in for the celebrations. 

In National City, things were very...  _ organised.  _ Halloween was a thing, but it seemed to be relegated to decorations designed by marketing teams. The precinct never had a hint of halloween anywhere, they’d be busy, as they would most holidays, because there was always  _ someone  _ somewhere doing something wrong. 

Midvale’s police department is different. The station has decorations. There's a bowl of candy on the front desk, the shape of a jack-o-lantern. Winn rigged up a string of lights too, that blink and glow a dull orange colour. 

Alex leaves them on, even as she sits at her desk. She can hear the shouts, the laughter filtering in from outside. 

Nobody's at the station right now. J'onn is outside on patrol, looking out for trick-or-treaters. He didn't ask if she wanted to join. 

She wouldn't have agreed anyways. 

The station isn't a popular place to stop, because most of the station has filtered out onto the streets for the night. The station remains quiet, all she can hear is the scratching of her pen as she writes, there isn’t another soul in the building. 

It’s a far cry from the chaos of National City. 

This is mindless work, and so her unoccupied brain decides to wander just a bit. To another time, to a year ago. 

_ Maggie _ . 

Now the name fills her with a melancholy that doesn’t cripple her. Maybe this is what acceptance feels like. 

She has memories of dessert that Maggie brings to her desk. They don’t say much. They don’t acknowledge the occasion. It’s nice, in it’s own way. She doesn’t miss the way they avoided talking about things, but she misses the kind of quiet company they’d have at times. 

A little part of her wonders if she’s moved on, if she’s moving on  _ too fast _ . Because now she’s wondering what it’d be like to have another person there, and she’s comparing, and she realises now that what was good for her back then isn’t what she wants now. 

The grumble of her stomach reminds her that she hasn't eaten yet, so she decides that her paperwork can rest for now. She drops her pen on the sheets, and glancing down, realises she’s only about half-way through. 

It’s not odd to see the front desk empty. The chair does look odd, the whole space feels empty. There’s a note by the phone that Alex absently picks up, a phone number, apparently a recent call with the name  _ G. Parker _ written on it. 

Alex isn’t focused on that though. She’s more focused on candy. It’s free, and although it theoretically is intended for visitors to the station, nobody’s around to yell at her for getting a handful of the fun-sized chocolates. 

And then she catches something. 

Just in the corner of her vision, as she reaches a hand into the bowl on the front desk to swipe a few forbidden treats. A tall white form, behind the frosted window. 

She freezes in place, as her heart skips a beat, and for a split second she thinks her mind is playing tricks on her, that she's seeing the wolf in places where it shouldn't be- 

But then she sees a girl in a khaki jumpsuit, a Ghostbuster, knocking excitedly on the door next to the tall form, which is a person in a long white sheet, with two holes cut out for the eyes. 

Ruby and Sam. 

Shit. Of course. She glances back to her desk, and surely enough the screen of her phone glows in the dark, probably with a message from her- Sam. 

It isn't that she doesn't want to see her, but not now. Not like this. There's nothing she can really do to turn them away though, and she isn't sure she wants to. 

She just feels...   _ tired  _ is the wrong word for it, but tired is what she feels, and she's almost ashamed of it. She has no real reason to be feeling this shitty. 

The door swings open, bringing with it a gust of cold wind, and a bouncy preteen who immediately throws her arms around her. 

"Officer Alex!" 

"Hey kiddo," she says, finding a spot on her shoulder to tap in something she hopes passes as a decent hug. 

Sam steps in behind her, shrugging off the white sheet as soon as she does so. Her hair is messy but her smile is just as bright as it always is. She knows what those lips feel like beneath her own now, and the thought sends a strange mix of feelings through her, ones that don't quite match her current mood. 

"We saw you through the window, and the lights were still on so-," 

"We had some candy to share," Ruby holds up a bag, and sure enough it's filled with candy. 

Alex right now, for some stupid reason, is hyper aware of everything, of the way she looks, the way she's acting. So she gestures at Sam, to cover up her lack of reaction, and tries to make a joke. 

"You weren't joking about going as a ghost." Is what she eventually says, and as Sam's smile spreads like it usually does, wide and comforting. "You scared me," 

"My costume isn't  _ that  _ convincing," Sam chuckles, and then it's her turn to hug her, still with her cloth costume in one hand. She's pulled into familiar arms, and the softness of her makes something within Alex shift. "We missed you out there," Sam says, and Alex is very conscious of the use of the word  _ we _ . Sam rests a hand on Ruby's shoulder, and the girl nods vigorously, "We have candy, but also we were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner? If you're not busy, that is..." 

Of course, as soon as that word is uttered, her stomach is sure to remind her that she hasn't eaten since she had half a sandwich at lunch. 

 

Sam genuinely did not expect for Alex to agree, but a few minutes later they're walking to the diner. 

Some of the energy of earlier has died down, as dusk faded into night, the street lamps went on, and kids left to go and enjoy their spoils. 

Speaking of - Ruby thinks she's sneaky, but Sam can hear the crinkle of wrappers beneath the sounds of their footsteps, the passing cars, and the ever-present sound of the sea. Ruby is well aware that they're heading for dinner right now, that she'll be able to order whatever she likes at the diner, so it's her loss if she can't finish her food. 

Speaking of dinner, something strange is going on with Alex, and she can't quite pinpoint what it is. She's heard the talk about the Lieutenant, that she’s still grieving, that she’s married to her job, that she’s unable to have fun at all (that one’s a sure lie, Sam has seen her smile and laugh before, it’s a hard sight to forget). 

No matter what the truth is, Sam can't bear the thought of leaving her alone with her emotions tonight. 

She settles for walking a little closer, inching bit by bit till their hands brush. 

They get to the corner near the bar, and that’s when Alex glances down at their hands. It’s only a brief flicker, and Sam’s heart is in her throat till she sees Alex’s lips curve upwards, and she turns to look at Sam properly. 

Ruby’s face is lit up by the glow of her phone as she munches away. It’s a miracle she doesn’t walk into anything. Sam’s somewhat glad for the distraction, for Alex’s sake. They haven’t talked about  _ this  _ yet. What they are to each other. They’ve kissed, and gone on a date or two (she isn’t sure what is and isn’t a date), but things haven’t gone to plan. 

The past week has been busy for them both, and Lena’s words have been circling around her mind as well, tainting her thoughts with their... reason and logic. 

The job and the new school and the new house are all just to keep her busy. She doesn’t  _ need  _ the money that her small town freelancing provided her with. Ruby probably doesn’t even need to be enrolled in the local school, Sam could have afforded to bring in a tutor, or she could have left her with Lena. This wasn’t permanent, even though it was starting to feel permanent. 

The people in the grocery store knew her name, the fishmongers knew that she’d always need her fish cleaned and filleted cause she never learned how. The donut shop prepared extra cream-filled donuts just for her on Thursdays, because she always got a little nervous before PTA meetings. The baker knew that Ruby was picky with sandwiches, and they made a wide range of breads, of which they sold half-loaves which made things so much easier. 

This wasn’t permanent, but she’s been making plans to add some more shelves to the bathroom (the house only had one, and there had been way too many arguments between the Arias women about taking up counter space). She’s been thinking of how she can park her car a little further to the left, so that Alex’s bike has space on the driveway when she comes over to visit. 

This isn’t permanent, but she’s wondering if she should tell her daughter she’s fallen in love while Alex gently links their fingers together, not drawing attention to the action, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. 

Sam lets go of her hand when they get close to the diner. 

The faded sign is backlit and visible from halfway down the street. It steadily gets larger as they approach, and they start to hear the sounds of voices, laughter, and music. 

This isn’t your usual night, after all. Little orange and black streamers hang from the outside of the diner, flapping in the calm evening breeze. People are dressed in all kinds of costumes, it makes for quite the sight. There’s a little plastic skeleton that rattles when they open the door. 

They get inside and order, and Alex is grateful for the haste. Ruby seems to be too, and after a big rant about the other kids who got all the full sized chocolate bars from the house two streets down from her own, she’s distracted by the sight of her friends, and not a moment later she’s bored and asking to be excused from the table so she can go and talk to them. 

Alex doesn’t think she’ll be bothered by the absence of the boisterous girl until she’s running off to her friends, and she’s left there with Sam in their little booth, sitting across from each other like they’re on a date. 

And nobody is watching them, but Alex can’t help but feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise, like there are eyes on them. 

She glances out the window under the guise of looking at the riveting view of Midvale by night, the washed out street lamps and the handful of passing cars. In the reflection, nobody seems to have their attention turned towards her. 

Not even Sam. 

Sam’s looking outside, eyes trained upwards. Alex follows her gaze for a moment, and notices the faint glow behind a thick cover of dark clouds. 

“It’s probably going to rain tonight,” 

Her words break Sam out of her thoughts, and the woman turns to look at her with a confused expression. 

Alex tilts her head towards the window, where the sky looks darker than usual. “It’s really cloudy,” 

“Are we talking about the weather?” Sam asks, incredulous. She lets out a little laugh, and Alex has to agree that it is kind of odd. 

She cracks a smile herself, and is about to say something else when a thundering of footsteps catches her attention, and Ruby’s sneakers squeal as she skids to a stop. 

Sam raises her eyebrows, and Ruby offers an explanation. 

"I'm so full," She shakes her head and rests a hand on her stomach, with all the drama of a well seasoned broadway actress. 

Sam rolls her eyes. "Too full on halloween candy, huh? No room for dessert?" 

That throws Ruby for a loop. Her eyes widen and she barely manages to recover in time, getting to the point. “Uh... yeah actually. Too full. Also my friends are here, and since your friend is here I was thinking that I could go and hang out with them tonight and give you two some alone time,” 

“ _ What?!”  _ Sam splutters, and Alex raises her eyebrows— a sudden redness filling her face as she struggles to find something to say in response. 

Sam quickly gathers herself, although Ruby seems to have picked up on something, because she looks at Alex with a furrowed brow as the woman picks up her glass of water and swallows a heavy gulp. 

Alex puts the glass down. “Why would you— why would you think that we wouldn’t want to spend time with you too?” 

“Because you two are like the same age, like I’m the same age as  _ my  _ friends. And I hate it when mom hangs out with me and my friends, so...” 

Alex is startled when the most gut-wrenching, heart breaking, high-pitched voice comes from a pouting Sam, who responds, “You don’t like it when I hang out with you?” 

“Don’t act like I just shattered your dreams, you  _ know  _ I don’t like it and that’s why you do it,” Ruby is immune, she scoffs, placing her hands on her hips. “It stopped being cool when I was like, seven.” 

Sam clutches at her chest. Clearly, a flair for the dramatic runs in the family “Ouch. Noted. I’m no longer cool,” 

“You were never cool,” Ruby rolls her eyes yet again. 

“Alex thinks I’m cool!” Sam cries, but Alex’s nose wrinkles and that’s the end of that. Sam notes the betrayal. 

Ruby turns to look at them again after glancing back at her table of friends. Sam is sure to take a moment to remember who each child is, and particularly who their parents are. 

It’s a very tense moment. Ruby’s cardboard-box proton pack rustles as she fidgets in place until Sam’s scan is complete, and she narrows her eyes at her daughter, serious mom mode activated. 

“Fine, but you have to come talk to me before you guys go anywhere else, understood?” 

Ruby’s excitement returns in full force, as the grin spreads on her face and she can’t get out of there fast enough. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I know. And if there’s a sleepover, you get to call the parents and stuff okay bye,” 

Ruby doesn’t  _ run _ , she was raised better than to run indoors. She skips towards her friends, without so much more than a glance back at the table. 

When Alex is done internally laughing at the reaction, she turns her head to see Sam with her head buried in her hands. 

Alex tries to glance around, to catch her gaze somehow. “You’re not really bothered by her saying that you’re not cool-“ 

“Oh I  _ know _ I’m not cool,” Sam lifts up her head quickly, shaking out her hair with a hand. “It wasn’t that, it was just-...” Her words trail off, and Alex fills in the gaps. 

“The other thing. The alone time,” 

Sam purses her lips, and gives a solid nod. 

They both fall into silence, the eye contact between them nearly stifling. 

“What are we?” Sam blurts out, and Alex pauses in her eating, placing her fork down and taking her time to look back up at Sam. Her movements feel stilted, controlled, and that only serves to make Sam all the more nervous. “Is it too soon to be asking that? Cause if it is, then I’m sorry, I just- I don’t have a lot of experience with rela- with  _ whatever this is _ ,” 

“Me neither,” 

Sam laughs at that, because the concept is just...  _ absurd _ . Alex is a catch, and it doesn’t quite make sense for her not to have a string of exes a mile long. “You were engaged,” 

Alex runs a hand through her hair, then rubs the back of her neck. She breathes, and looks at Sam with a careful expression. “Maggie was my first,” 

“Oh,” 

“I think- I think we should just take this slow. See where it leads. There’s no rush, we aren’t going anywhere,” Alex gives her a wry smile and a lighthearted chuckle, like them staying in Midvale is inevitable, a proven fact. 

Maybe it is for Alex. 

But not for Sam. 

That eases some of the tension for Alex, apparently, but it only makes Sam’s situation feel  _ worse.  _ She’s so stupid for bringing it up when she doesn’t even know what she wants to call this little growing thing between them. The thought hits her and she spirals, wishing she had a moment to pause and call Lena and ask her for some logical, clear advice. 

But she’s out here without a life jacket now, being pulled into the deep. Alex is waiting, watching her with a curious expression, like she’s trying to pull her apart, like she can see Sam’s questioning something. 

“We aren’t going anywhere,”  Sam says, tossing in a smile for good measure. 

Alex seems to believe it. The smile that spreads on her face is shy, she glances down to try and smother it but it comes back again, it lights up her whole face, and Sam wonders if she’s just set them both up for a whole lot of pain. 

This is a fragile thing between them, but they leave the diner after Ruby informs Sam of an impromptu halloween sleepover, and the two women head off together into the night. 

 

It is fully dark now, night turns the water inky black, with only the reflection of the street lamps and the dull glow of the moon to light the tips of choppy waves. The wind whips past the both of them, more volatile now that they’ve decided to walk down close to the ocean, which is frigid and cold. It’s a shortcut, Alex had said. It’s also nicer. 

But it’s cold, and the wind bites at Sam’s skin, and she knows that if she’s feeling it, then Alex must be as well, because her fingers are always cold to the touch, and her skin is always flushed red whenever she sees her. 

“Are you c-“ 

“Yes,” Alex says, and not a moment later Sam’s arm is being thrown over Alex’s shoulder, and Alex is wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist 

Well. Alex is a woman who clearly knows what she wants. They continue to walk, now in step with each other for a few steps, until she decides to ask a question. 

“What?” 

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask. Maybe I was going to ask if you’re interested in going to my place,” Sam asks, mostly as a joke, but Alex stops abruptly, turning to look at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“I think you know the answer to that already, why would you ask?” 

“I don’t know the answer, that’s why I’d bother asking,” 

Alex runs her hand over the front of Sam’s jacket, brushing away some invisible lint. When she looks up, her dark eyes reflect the pinpoints of streetlamps, just like the water behind, and Sam is just as captivated. She nearly misses her next sly murmur, the wind continues to buffet them with little icy drops of sea spray, and it makes it hard to hear. “Well... I wanna go home with you. Do you need further clarification?” 

Her lips feel numb, but the warmth of Alex’s lips against her own quickly remedies that. She brings her hands up to cup Alex’s face, her palms are cold and so is Alex’s skin but she feels like if she kisses her well enough she can warm them both up-

But something is off, something isn’t quite alright, she’s only ever kissed Alex one other time before this but she knows that she’s not all into it. 

She leans back, and Alex’s sharp breath is louder than the white noise of the waves behind them. 

“Something’s wrong,” 

"Just one of those days," 

"It seems like more than just one of those days," Sam says with a little laugh, but it comes off quite short. She puts her hands in her pockets, and she can feel Alex’s eyes burning into the side of her head, unused to hearing such a dry kind of sarcasm in her voice. 

They walk for a little bit longer, trudging through the soft sand. It’s when Sam feels a bit guilty for being sharp with her that she gets ready to turn around, to apologise, that Alex notices something in the distance. 

“Come to the old pier with me?” 

“In the dark? Now?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark,” Alex teases, and that’s all it takes to break through Sam’s uncertainty. 

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” 

-

Alex sits and throws her legs over the edge without a care. Sam is a little more cautious. In the dark, the water could be a foot or a mile deep, she wouldn’t be able to tell. It looks dark and uninviting and dangerous, and it batters the wooden beams of the old pier. 

“This doesn’t look safe,” 

“It’s stood for more than a hundred years, and it’ll stand for a hundred more,” Alex says, hitting the plank they’re sitting on with the side of a fist. Sam winces, and grabs at the wood but the vibrations settle, and they haven’t plunged into the water. “At least, that’s what my dad used to say,” 

Sam has noticed already, that Alex rarely speaks of her father. It’s been at the back of her mind since the fisherman had spoken of the  _ other  _ Lieutenant Danvers, and she’s been subconsciously keeping tabs on the times she’s avoided conversation about him. 

And she hasn’t brought up parents much, and Alex hasn’t asked her about her mother, so she’d assumed that she’d tell her at some point. 

Alex wraps her arms around herself, and Sam shuffles closer, partially to shield her somewhat from the wind (but the wind almost comes from every direction), partially to share her own warmth. 

Alex doesn’t look her in the eyes. She stares out at the water instead, she is weighing something, making a decision. Sam’s fingers curl on the weathered wood, fitting into the grooves and cracks, holding herself in place. 

She doesn’t reach out, she doesn’t rush her, she just  _ waits _ , even though she wants to know, she wants to understand, she wants to  _ help.  _

"My father died on this night, ten years ago. They never found out why." Alex says.

"Alex, I'm-" 

She cuts her off, shaking her head, before running a hand through her hair to force it back into place. "It's fine. Don't apologise. I'd rather you found out about that from me than someone else. And it’s old news anyways. It happened years ago,” 

And then Alex’s brow furrows when she sees Sam, hands twitching, a concerned frown on her face, it feels bad, it feels wrong, she doesn’t  _ want this.  _

“It’s fine, can we just-“ 

She tugs at Sam’s jacket, trying to pull her in for a kiss, but when Sam doesn’t budge, she doesn’t lean in, Alex feels that same unease crawling underneath her skin. 

“Don’t make a big deal of it, please. Can we just go to your place? Or we could go to mine...” 

-

They agree on Sam’s house, mostly because Sam’s more sure in her own home. She’s more sure of herself, of her decisions. 

They decide on watching a movie. Something that requires little effort, something that would give Sam a chance to rest -- she was feeling a little tired after the excitement of the day, a little drained even though she'd been helping Ruby to thin out her haul of candy throughout the evening. 

Alex kicks off her shoes by the door, and Sam guides her to the lounge room, where she crouches near the TV unit, inspecting Sam's collection of movies she's gathered over the years, while Sam finds snacks and drinks. 

“You can get half this stuff on Netflix, why go through the effort of getting a VCR to play this stuff anyways?” Alex says, trailing her hand over the backs of the cases, looking for anything interesting. 

Sam pauses with her hand on the fridge door, brows furrowed and scowl set firmly on her face. “Okay, first of all, you can’t judge me when your TV is older than both of us-” 

Alex gasps softly, feigning offence. “Ouch, a personal attack. I’ll have you know my TV came with the house,” 

“I don’t doubt that. It fits in with the ugly wallpaper and that ancient sofa.” Sam huffs. 

“Hey! Now the couch, I spent my hard-earned money on that,” She points, and Sam lets out a soft laugh at the theatrics, holding the stems of two empty wine glasses between her fingers. 

“I feel kind of bad now for judging your couch. It was very soft,” 

Sam brings over snacks, with a bowl of popcorn tucked under one arm, the glasses clink as she sets it down. She always seems to have some, and apparently her trick-or-treating has been fruitful, because she leaves a pumpkin shaped plastic bucket on the table in front of them, half full with treats. She pours them both a glass of shiraz, deep red liquid fills the glass easy. 

The house is meticulously clean, albeit cluttered in places. The coffee table has random sheets of paper, a few magazines, what she assumes is Ruby’s neon headphones. The dining table is in the same state, with a few extra books that Alex assumes must be either Ruby’s homework or Sam’s accounting things. 

Sam notices her glancing around as the video rewinds to the start. Her glances would be casual, but she’s got a look in her eyes, like she’s analysing things. Sam tilts her head in question, in silent curiosity, when those dark eyes fall to look at her for a long moment. 

“This is a nice place. Nice furniture too,” 

Sam snorts under her breath, reaching for her glass of wine. “No need to go all CSI on my house,” 

She takes a big gulp of her wine, and Alex wonders if that was impolite to say. She crawls for an explanation. “No I’m just... the houses here are pretty cheap, but this really is one of the nicest ones. More than big enough for the two of you. That kitchen’s just been remodelled. You’re not a secret millionaire, are you?” 

She passes it off as a joke, but Sam just puts her glass of wine down, and grabs a handful of candy from the bowl on the table. 

_ Keeping busy _ , she would say,  _ avoiding the question,  _ but this is Sam, and Sam’s always been forthright with her. 

“Not exactly,” She murmurs, quickly unwrapping a toffee before popping it in into her mouth. 

Alex’s eyes widen. “Not  _ exactly?  _ Now I gotta know. What  _ did  _ you do back in National City?” 

“I worked in finance. Uh... upper management,” Sam scratches the back of her neck, clearly sweating under the attention. Alex is  _ intrigued _ , because,  _ woah _ . She never would have thought that the small-town accountant had big-town success. That just brought more questions though.  _ Upper management?  _ Why move? Why leave such a good job? Did she just want a sea change? Was she really trying to find herself? 

“Wow. So six figures then,” 

Sam laughs again, now nudging Alex’s side with an elbow. The bowl of popcorn tilts but doesn’t spill. “You never struck me as a golddigger,” 

“You never struck me as ‘upper management’,” 

“The houses here aren’t very expensive,” 

“I mean, I guess compared to National City they aren’t  _ too  _ expensive, but still.” Alex decides to give her an out. They are meant to watch a movie anyways. She presses play once the tape has finished rewinding, and the opening titles begin. 

It takes all of twenty minutes for the movie to get boring. 

 

They’re tucked under that same threadbare blanket before long. 

Alex blames the wine. It’s about as good as boxed wine can get, which is to say it’s quite like how she sees herself. Functional, but unrefined.The romance is stilted and the acting is forced, the music seems out of place and the writing makes them both cringe at times, but the quality of the film doesn’t matter, just like the quality of the wine. It gets them closer, and once Sam finishes the popcorn the bowl is placed onto the table. 

Alex thinks she’s coming back to lie beside her, and she’s getting ready to be held in her arms but Sam is always full of surprises. Instead she snuggles up against Alex’s side, tugging Alex’s arm up till it’s wrapped around her shoulders. 

“Are you comfortable there?” Alex asks, and Sam lets out a dreamy little sigh. 

“Yeah,” 

Alex shifts a bit to make room for her, and Sam sees it as an excuse to take up more of her space. The closer she gets, the closer Alex wants her, the more that quiet desire grows. 

And it’s the same sort of set up, with a blanket over them and an empty house, only this time things are a little different, because beneath that want for closeness, there’s a quiet understanding. 

When Alex looks down at Sam, she has her eyes closed, her head pillowed on her shoulder. She can feel the rhythm of her breathing, the comforting weight of her, and her warmth. 

She never wants to leave this place. She doesn’t want to move, she’s terrified that with the slightest movement, the slightest sound, the moment will shatter, and she won’t be able to see her like this. 

Sam lets out another gentle sigh, warm against Alex's skin. 

"Sleepy?" Alex murmurs, and that does it. 

Sam's brow furrows, and she swallows thickly, her body going tense for a moment. “The sleepwalking... it’s coming back. Getting worse. I don’t know-“ her voice is strained, and that gets Alex to move, to pull Sam closer. 

"So you haven't been sleeping well?" 

Her eyes glisten, but she doesn’t cry. It's still shocking, because Alex isn't used to seeing her like this, seeing her without a smile on her face, seeing her look so vulnerable. She draws back, and tugs at the sleeve of her shirt, pulling it over her hand as she turns her head away, probably to wipe at her eyes. 

“Whatever happens, whatever this is, you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out, I promise,” she says, but words can't do everything here. 

So as Sam moves away, Alex rests a gentle hand on her arm. She doesn't know what to do, she doesn't know how to give comfort, but she has an idea of what might help. 

"Can you show me? Where you’re going, if you know...” 

 

They're outside on the porch again, the movie forgotten. 

Sam has her arms wrapped around herself. She’s tall, but when she’s hunched over herself like this, it’s harder for Alex to notice the height difference.

"It's always here. Outside the door," she nods down to the ground by their feet. 

There’s nothing really of note at first glance. The porch is cluttered just a bit, garden tools on the opposite side from the porch swing. Planter boxes with the little glowing butterflies bobbing along in them. 

And then she notices something. Just by the door, where Sam is pointing to. Wedged between two of the boards in the decking. She crouches down to the ground, and gently pries out a strip of frayed fabric. 

It’s not the only one. Now that she knows what she’s looking for, she can see a piece of an old shirt shoved into a corner. Scraps of a pair of patterned shorts too, underneath the porch swing. 

All sufficiently mangled, all a mess. 

She glances up, and Sam is there, crouched right behind her, staring at what’s in her hand. She’s a little startled by Alex’s sudden movement, she sways a little and steadies herself with a hand on Alex’s shoulder. 

“I think that’s from my clothes,” 

Her  _ what?  _ Alex’s confusion must show, because Sam shakes her head, and points behind her. 

“I put the clothes to dry. On the line. And sometimes I forget- or I tell Ruby to get them off and she doesn’t- I think that’s why. In my sleep I take them down. That must be how I’m getting them,” 

“Oh, right.” Alex looks down at the scrap of fabric. “Yeah, your subconscious... yeah,” 

It’s odd, and she wonders how they get so damaged, but she doesn’t ask any more questions about the clothes. Something else catches her attention. It’s inconsequential at first, she thinks it’s a groove in the wood, part of the grain. 

But it cuts across more than one board in the deck, several of them in fact, and there are multiple. Jagged yet parallel to one another. She runs her fingers along them. 

And her blood runs cold. 

Cause these aren’t just regular scratches in the wood. 

These are  _ claw marks.  _

Sam’s hand curls around her shoulder. “What else do your detective eyes see?” Sam asks, and it’s light, and joking, and it’s the voice she’s grown to know, but Alex can’t hear anything other than the violent pounding in her chest. 

_ It  _ has been here. 

Sam is in danger. 

If the wolf has been here before, and Sam’s saying she wakes up on this very porch... she can’t bear to think about what might happen if Sam sleepwalks into the wolf’s waiting mouth one night. If the wolf pounces while she’s vulnerable. 

“Alex?” Sam asks, her voice softer this time, wavering as she notices Alex’s silence. 

But she can’t. She can’t let Sam be more worried than she already is, because this-... it could be false. It could be her own mind playing tricks. The longer she looks at the marks, the more they seem like they could be anything. Could be another animal, could be something dragged across the deck. A heavy plant pot or something. 

_ Or the claws of a large wolf’s paws _ . 

Not helpful. She needs to respond. Sam’s getting fidgety. 

She stands up, and Sam follows, in a movement more fluid than her own. She’s still nervously watching Alex, her hands settling on her arms, gently rubbing up and down. 

Like she’s comforting  _ her.  _

“No- Sam... I...” the wolf isn’t real. The wolf can’t be real. The wolf doesn’t exist. The wolf  _ can’t  _ exist. “Can we go back inside?” 

-

Nobody said it was an animal attack. He spent half his life searching for that creature.

He used to tell her stories about it. Bigger than any wolf you’ve ever seen. Nearly as tall as a car. Huge teeth, a strange sort of walk, because it was so big. 

She'd see the blurry polaroid pictures pinned up on the wall of the barn. He'd tell her about his theories, and she'd listen. Stare at the photos, at blanched tree trunks at night under a harsh flash. The pinpoints of light -- the eyes of the creature. A pale smear along a corner, the cryptid caught in motion. 

She'd wondered what it would eat. What it did. She'd read about wolves, about them travelling in packs. 

This one was alone, and she wondered why. 

_ "It might be the only one of its kind. Maybe it's just lonely. That's what i'm trying to find out,"  _

And in a night, it was all gone. 

She remembers the fire. The shouts.  

She remembers Kara bursting out of her room, a flurry of movement, ready to thunder down the stairs to go and see what's going on. She knows she would have seen from the window, just like she did. The big bonfire was hard to miss, the flickering of flames, the shouting. 

She caught Kara by the elbow. 

" _ Alex-"  _ She remembers her eyes, wide and panicked, mouth moving but no words coming out in her confused panic. 

Teenage Alex is mean, but she's not  _ evil.  _ She takes pity on her. 

"They'll sort it out, okay? Just go back to bed. You'll only make it worse," 

Kara went to bed. Alex didn't know if she went to sleep. 

Alex stayed. Hand against the glass. It was like she could feel the heat from the bonfire. The embers looked like angry stars, reaching upwards to find their place back in the sky. Her mother just stood there, hands over her mouth, watching  _ years  _ worth of evidence burn. 

The paperwork said  _ Killed in action - unknown attacker.  _ The coroner agreed. The papers wrote that. They said it at the funeral. 

Alex heard it fall from her mother's lips as she cradled the phone with a shaking hand. 

The town would whisper that the wolf silenced him. 

The hunter became the hunted. 

-

“Something spooked you out there,” Sam says once they're back inside, and sitting on the couch yet again. Now she's turned on a lamp, the TV is off. The lighting is almost romantic, a soft amber frames her face, but her eyes are filled with concern, she knows something's up. 

Alex Danvers doesn't get scared. She's not afraid of anything. 

Least of all, she's not afraid of ghosts. 

And she doesn't want to talk about it anymore, not tonight, not now. She doesn't want to think about it, she just wants Sam to be safe, because she  _ cares  _ about her. 

"I was just a little cold." She says, and she knows what that means between them now, she knows what Sam will read between the lines as she looks up at her. 

There's the faintest hint of a blush showing on  her cheeks. Her smile is gentle and it makes her eyes sparkle. “Come here,”  

She arches a finger, and Alex follows, shuffling over so she can lean up against Sam. She can hear Sam's breath hitch as she enters her space, as gentle fingers brush a few stray strands of hair back behind her ear. 

Alex angles her face upwards, and Sam’s lips meet her own. It’s the third time they’ve kissed, and while the last was stiff and stilted because of their emotions, this one feels all the better for it. 

It is cathartic. She feels a sigh building up in her chest, and as it leaves so does the tension in her body. Sam’s hand frames her face, the other slides down her back, holding her close.

Her lips are the softest thing she’s ever felt, and Alex understands now, how Sam could pick that something was wrong the last time. They're closer than ever like this, it feels like she can read her mind this way, she can feel what she feels. Sam's eyes are held closed, and she's kissing gently, slowly, she's trying to slow them down, but she's almost  _ giddy _ , a smile bringing a curve to her lips every time Alex leans in further. 

Sam's other hand moves down her body at a glacial pace. From her neck, to her shoulder, before she slides down her side, along her ribs, before she freezes there, like she's let herself get carried away. 

So Alex uses a hand to push her back down into the couch, and she follows.

Alex can sense her make the decision to slow things down a second before she actually does. The kisses grow shallow and light, till they are just resting with their foreheads touching, noses brushing, sharing a breath. 

“Hello,” Alex murmurs against her lips. 

“Hi,” Sam says, the corners of her mouth curving upward. 

Alex pulls back until she’s sitting on Sam’s lap so she can see her better. She likes her like this, with kiss-reddened lips and her hair fanned out beneath her. Her sweater has risen just a little bit, and she can see a sliver of tanned skin. 

She wants to touch, and so she does. 

Sam shivers, and draws her lower lip between her teeth. Muscles tense like steel beneath silk. 

She wants to see more, so she brings both hands down to slide underneath, pressing against Sam's lower stomach. 

They both feel a shift in the mood with that simple action, a hint of something that can’t be done tonight, not really, not after all that trauma had been exhumed like that. But they both imagine the same thing, Alex can tell. 

Sam sits up then, and Alex is now straddling her lap, watching her. Alex's hands slide from where they were teasing with the boundary, to rest on Sam's hips. 

Instead of meeting her in another kiss, she tilts Alex’s chin up, and her lips find her neck. The kisses are soft at first, barely presses of the lips, but then Alex  _ burns  _ as she lets her tongue drag along the tendon of her neck. 

The touches are electrifying, and before she knows it, there’s a groan escaping her throat, and she  _ wants.  _ She slides a hand up Sam's back beneath her clothes, against the ridge of her spine, as she leans into Sam's mouth, now working at the base of her jaw. The heat of her mouth, the electric shivers it sends right down her spine, fuelling something deeper-

This is more than she knew she wanted, but she doesn’t want to stop, even though they’d said  _ slow _ , even though this was only meant to be comfort. 

But Alex is conscious of the empty house, the hands that hold her gently in place, the way that Sam’s breaths come heavy, warm against her skin, her skin hot against her palms. She wants that sweater  _ off _ , she wants to see her,  _ all  _ of her- 

A cacophonous rattle startles them both, and they nearly fall off the couch in their surprise till they realise what it is. 

It’s cold in the room, she hadn’t noticed until now, when she’s standing in the middle of the room, because it could be an emergency, there are only so many cops in Midvale. 

She tries not to notice Sam’s hair is mussed and her eyes are dark and she’s biting her lower lip like she wants her to come back to the couch for more. 

_ Kara - Can't make it tonight. Big article due tomorrow. I'm sorry.  _

“I’ve gotta make a no phones rule,” Sam muses, and her voice has a different timbre, something that Alex hasn't really heard before. It would draw her back, but a dull ache settles in her chest. It sobers her up real quick. 

“Your phone was the one that rang last time,” she gives as a response. 

_ Alex - It's not me you should be apologising to. You're the one who promised. _

She types fast, and tucks her phone into her pocket once the message has sent. "I should go," 

"But we have the house to ourselves..." Sam drawls, even though she can tell Alex has made up her mind to leave. She tries anyways, and as soon as she sees Alex tuck her phone away, she wraps her arms around her, drawing her closer as she rests her cheek against her own. 

“Slow, Sam. I think that’s what we agreed upon.” Alex gently reminds her with a tap on the nose. Sam laughs, lips pressing a single kiss on her cheek before she's pulling away. Alex catches the little sigh she can't quite hide as she backs off, and if it were any other circumstance, Alex would pull her back in. 

“Slow.  _ Right _ ,” The back of her neck feels warm, a shiver rolls through her at the almost...  _ reluctant  _ acceptance in Sam's voice. 

“I should go... to my mom’s,” she winces around the hitch in her voice, but it's only a natural reaction to the way Sam bites her lip, glancing away. 

“Well I better not hold you back for too long,”

It's easy enough to find her jacket, tossed over the back of the sofa. She doesn't have anything else, her phone is in her pocket, as are her keys. She's lingering, wishing she'd brought more so she could collect the items of herself on her way out, give Sam more of a chance to stare at her like she is now. 

This must be what it's like to be  _ desired _ . 

Sam's almost jittery with it. She fidgets with a loose thread on her sweater, glancing up every now and again. Every time she's caught, she gives Alex a little sheepish smile. 

Always a smile. 

Alex has everything she needs. After a quick check of her pockets, just for piece of mind, she's wandering towards Sam in the dimly lit hallway, the taller woman outlined in a halo of blue moonlight. 

As Sam's hand reaches for the doorknob, and she readies herself to say something, Alex interrupts, freezing her in place. 

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” 

“You don’t need to ask,” 

And Alex is leaning up to meet her in a gentle kiss. It lasts for barely a moment, but Sam still leans forward, almost dazed by it in a way that brings a smile to Alex's face. 

“Sweet dreams, Sam,” 

She laughs, ducking her head for a moment to try and hide the blush on her cheeks. She’s flustered, and when she glances back at Alex, she quirks an eyebrow upwards with a cheeky smile. “Oh they will be sweet,” 

Alex pushes her but it doesn’t stop Sam from smiling wider. “Stop- stop looking at me like that,” 

“Like what?” her smile only grows, and Alex gestures at her up and down, exasperated. 

“... you know. You’re making it hard for me to go...” 

“Alright,” Sam waves a hand, places the other on Alex’s shoulder, and gently guides her through the now-open door, her voice almost teasing. “Call me when you get home,” 

Alex glances back, and that  _ look  _ hasn’t left Sam’s eyes, even as she crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe. 

She knows she must look odd, walking sideways down the driveway. She shoves one hand in her pocket to fight off the chill, and gives Sam a little half-wave. 

Sam waves back. Even from this distance, her smile makes Alex feel a little bit warmer inside. 

It's in the cold, dark night that everything makes itself known again. She shouldn’t leave. She wants to stay, to see if it comes back. She wants to know what it’s business is, if it’s planning something. 

The claw marks on the back porch, the torn clothes, they all seem to point to one thing. If she's wrong, then Sam is safe. But if she's  _ right....  _

She shakes her head to rid herself of the thought. She has to prove herself wrong. 

Or find it. Before  _ it  _ finds  _ Sam _ . 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every comment gives me life and fuel and fills my heart with so much love for this wonderful little pocket of the community we've created. you commenters are what get chapters out! so please. tell me your thoughts, give me a kudos, and i'll see you in a couple of weeks for the next chapter :) 
> 
> and oh yeah, as always, i'm daskey on tumblr. my ask box is open, so come yell at me on anon if you'd like. also i make art and i might be making art for this fic just saying ok bye


	9. wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we explore the relationship between alex and her mother, and things with the cryptid and the disappearances grow personal. we're entering uncharted territory here, folks. better buckle up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obvious inspiration for this chapter (and the previous one) - creature fear by bon iver

 

_ \----  howl _

The first thing she notices is that the lights are off. 

The lights are off, and it’s the middle of the night, and the wind whips at the grass around the house and through the fields to the edge of the cliffs, the grass ripples and rolls in waves like the sea in the distance. 

The lights are off in the house, but she still treads heavy, to give her mother enough notice. 

It’s then that she starts to feel the guilt. 

The house feels like it’s mourning.

Everyone is mourning. 

Except for her. 

Her hand pauses on opening the front door. 

And it’s not- it’s not a  _ bad  _ thing, she presumes. It’s not bad to move on, it’s not bad to continue living. It shouldn’t feel like this, after so many years. 

She’s allowed to have her life, to have Sam. She’s allowed this tiny bit of happiness. 

The door creaks loud as she pushes it open without thinking much about it, and she inwardly curses her absentmindedness. 

She gingerly toes off her shoes in the dark. She’s not going to wake up Eliza if she’s sleeping.

She isn’t. 

She’s sitting on her bed, staring out the window. It’s in the light of the moon that Alex can see the lines on her face. Her hair looks silver-blonde, and her eyes aren’t teary but they hold a sadness that Alex can’t even fathom. 

Her hands curl around the doorframe, and she feels somehow like a child again, incredibly out of her depth, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Mom?” 

It isn’t often that Alex calls her that. 

It gets her attention. 

She tilts her head slightly in Alex’s direction, looking at her from the corner of her eye. 

Alex takes that as a cue to proceed. 

She makes her way over to sit next to her, but she isn’t sure of what to do 

To say things have been  _ tense  _ between her and her mother is an understatement. Ever since she’s come back to Midvale, it has felt like this. Uncertain, unsure, confusing. Alex has returned to the nest, and now they have tried to adapt, but Alex doesn’t quite fit in the place she used to anymore. 

“He’d be proud of you,” 

It’s the first thing she’s said since she’d walked in, so it grabs her attention, it rings out through the room, impossibly loud. 

The sting starts in her eyes, and before long she feels a wave, crash over her. She’s dragged down under and several weeks, months,  _ years  _ worth of it all... it just...  _ breaks.  _

She breaks. 

\-- 

Alex leaves, and once Sam closes the door, the house falls silent. 

She presses her hand against the cold surface of the door. The outside is creeping in, but that alone isn’t what sends an icy chill down her spine. 

It’s silent, but not  _ completely.  _ She picks up the sounds of a slight breeze outside. It makes the old trees creak, it sets something outside rattling. A loose window shudders, but that isn’t what makes her skin crawl. 

She’s tired. Her tired body begs her for lay down, sit down, to do anything of the sort, but she knows the second she lays down, she’ll be out. 

So she keeps moving. 

She starts with the front door. Each lock, in sequence. She tests the window, finds the key to lock that too. 

In the comfort of Alex’s arms, she’d felt it trying to drag her in. It was seductive, it felt so good to close her eyes only for a moment. She’d felt safe. She’d almost let sleep take her. Perhaps she should have taken that opportunity then. Taken a nap to sustain her through the night. 

It draws in like a haze on the edges of her consciousness, tingling and enticing, impossible to distract herself from. 

She leans against the wall. The ground feels unsteady under her feet. Black spots start to burst in front of her vision. The world tilts on its axis, and she blacks out just before the unforgiving ground moves up to reach her. 

\- 

Alex drives. 

It’s a brisk morning, but there isn’t a cloud in the sky today. It’s Eliza’s old car, the heating takes a while to kick in. 

This is home. There’s a hill that crests and from it, the road opens out, forest peeling back to one side, the gentle arc of the bay and the town center of Midvale, all clustered close to the bay. The morning light is gentle, peeking through the trees. This is the still time, the quiet. The road is empty, it belongs to them. Winn’s voice comes in over the grainy radio, a little weather report, a kind welcome to yet another morning. 

The thought comes brief into her mind, but once it settles, it sticks, and she needs to air it. “You know, it’d probably be easier if you moved into town,” 

There’s a silence. She’s focused on the road, but she takes a second to glance at Eliza. She doesn’t look irritated, or mad. She’s staring out the window, watching Midvale wake up. “Why would I want that?” 

“You wouldn’t have to take care of all that grass. And you could walk to the shops, you know,” 

Then Eliza turns to her, and she says nothing, but it hits Alex, and she understands. 

She gives a curt nod. 

They say nothing else as they drive through town. 

Midvale is just waking up, but she can feel the weight of people’s attention on the faded paint of Eliza’s old car. It’s not as well maintained as Sam’s, which stands out for being so unweathered. 

No. This one stands out because it fits in, but it is rarely ever seen. Eliza comes out on her own maybe once a month? Once every two months? J’onn makes the drive down to the Danvers’ house once in a while in one of the cop cars. Alex wonders if that’s better or worse. 

There are eyes on them, though there’s nobody on the streets really, they feel it as they pause to wait for lights to change at empty intersections, as they pass through main street to where they’re headed. 

She pulls the breaks when they’re outside the wrought iron gate. Eliza doesn’t thank her for the drive, doesn’t expect her to come with her. 

“Leave the car ‘round the corner. I’ll be back later,” 

That’s how it’s been. 

She sits in the empty car, in a gravel parking lot. It’s eight in the morning, and Winn starts the morning news. 

Gravestones dot the hill like fallen teeth, some bleached bone white, others greying and greening with age. 

Alex knows he isn’t in there. There isn’t a tombstone for him, only a burnished plaque. She isn’t sure where it is, but it would be weathered, too, not as old as some of the more grandiose tombstones, but it would be something small to mark him as one of the  _ dearly departed  _ of the town. 

Because when you die in Midvale, you stay in Midvale, immortalised by a bit of the stone quarried from the cliffs nearby etched with your name, and some words your family thought would be appropriate. 

But he isn’t in there. They let him go into the sea, carried by a strong wind right near their home. While the Danvers belonged to Midvale, were from Midvale, they never really lived  _ in  _ Midvale, did they? 

Look at the Danvers’ sisters. Only one ever came back. The other-... 

She glances at her phone. 

It’s early morning, but her sister should be up, getting ready. She doesn’t have to leave till nine, she lives right next to Catco. 

 

_ “Hey,”  _ She starts, and already her voice is apologetic, quiet. She can feel the regret coming through the phone. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” It comes out harsh, and a bit of her means it, the rest of her regrets it. 

_ “Alex... you know I would have. I would have. I know this was big. This was 10 years. I wouldn’t miss it without a reason, you know that,”  _

She hears her on the other side. Her voice close. She's cradling the phone towards her face. There's that crinkle between her brow probably. This is making her upset, she can hear the hitch in her breath. 

But how forgiving can she be right now? 

The answer is: not very. 

“It must have been a pretty good reason. But also... Eliza’s always been softer on you.” 

_ “Alex,”  _

“I just could have used you here as well. Not just for help with Eliza. He’s our dad,” 

_ “I’m sorry,”  _

She spots Eliza coming back, so she cuts it quick. She doesn't  _ want  _ to talk to her anyways. She doesn't want her stupid excuses, not now. "I have to go. I have work," 

-

She stands on the front porch, knocking. Once, twice- cause she hasn't answered, and usually by this point she's already in the doorway, waiting for her to come back from her sleepover, ready to jump on whoever's parent it is to see if she'd been well behaved. 

But she isn't here today, and she'd told Casey's mom to leave, and she had, and now she wonders if she should have told her to stay. 

"Mom?" She calls out again. 

Another knock. 

The door doesn't open. 

Maybe she's sleeping? 

But a phone call would have woken her up. 

It's a little bit cold. She wraps her arms around herself. Now the quiet of the street rings in her ears, the rustle of leaves and the calling of birds and the sound of the wind through the neighbor's hollow wind chime, clattering like hollow bones. 

Two days ago they'd had a weird talk, but this can't be like things with that one kid's mom, who ran off and didn't come back. Her mom loves her more than his mom had loved him. They were a team. She wouldn't run off. 

She might have gone to Alex, which, if she did, was good for her... but she would have told her. 

She calls out at the window. No response. Doesn't look like there's anyone in bed, it still looks like it hasn't been touched. 

The fence is a lot taller than her. Her sneakers stutter against the painted surface of the pickets, and she feels like she nearly impales herself on the top of it. She flops rather ungracefully over the top once she hoists herself up with burning arms, and she's weightless. 

Then the air is knocked out of her as she lands flat on her back. 

"Ow... heck," 

Her eyes shoot open. 

She glances at the side of the house. 

Only a bird seems to have witnessed her fall. 

Her mom isn't summoned from the house by her bad language. 

She's partially relieved, partially concerned. It builds in her, it feels worse than the stinging on her back, or the burning in her lungs. It's a heavy thing, it's not a feeling that feels like it's going to go away. 

She jogs to the back of the house. 

The back door rests wide open. The thin curtain billowing out, the door swinging free on its hinges. 

"Mom?!" she shouts, and it's instinct that has her looking out to the forest. 

And up, up,  _ up  _ at the towering tall trees, that go on  _ forever _ . Between the trunks she can only see how far it goes, more trees, more trees, she can't be out there, she runs up the stairs, she might be inside, she has to be, she catches herself on the doorframe, her breaths are loud in her own ears, she can't see her, she's not in the lounge, she's not in the bathroom, she's not in her office, she's not in her bed, she's not in the attic- 

She calls the police from the house phone with a shaky hand. She's glad her mom showed her how to use it, the rotary rattle beneath her finger is unfamiliar and as it rings she begs for someone to answer. 

The back door stays open. 

\- 

She sees the blinds shake before the captain opens the door to his office, stepping out with purpose. She needs to catch him before he leaves on whatever he’s planning on doing, so she stands up. 

“Hey J’onn?” 

He turns to face her, and it must be something in her expression, or in the way she stands, poised to leave already, one foot pointing towards the door, her body tense. 

“You’re going out there," 

He knows. 

She can’t really lie to him. Not now, not to his face. “I am.” 

“You know of any reason why Sam Arias wouldn’t be home?” 

“What?” 

“She’s not at your house is she?” 

“No- why would she be? She isn’t...  _ J’onn,”  _ She tries to stay aloof, but she can’t help but feel like a child being scolded by a parent. "She should be at her place," 

But his tone isn't- it isn't that. He's not asking about that. Dread settles in her chest when she watches his expression change. “I’m not asking for you to cover for her. I’m asking because she wasn't at home this morning. Ruby Arias came back from her sleepover, thought she'd be there," 

"She's missing," 

"Not officially. She might just have gone out and not-" 

"She wouldn't have left Ruby alone like that. She would have told her," there's a panic in her voice, she can hear it shaking despite her effort to stay calm, to stay collected. "Where is Ruby?" 

"At school," 

The silence that falls is chilling. 

"Listen, Alex. I know I haven't been listening about the cryptid, but I think right now-" 

"That's not my priority right now-" 

"But maybe it should be. I don't know. But you have a hunch, and it's all we have right now," 

It should be vindication, but right now it's just the way it has to be. It's the logical conclusion to this. They have to get the wolf. 

She'd be happy about someone agreeing with her, but not now, not that it's the only lead they have, not when Sam is missing... 

"Fine. Just... do what you need to do. Get it dealt with. I don't care. I just- I'm going to get her kid," 

-

She wakes up to the sound of birdsong, the rustle of leaves, a cold, damp breeze against her skin, and the feeling of wet earth beneath her. 

She's woken up in odd places before that weren't her bed, and she was almost always uncomfortable. In those moments, the ground would be firm and unyielding, her head would feel like it had been stuffed with cotton wool, her muscles would ache and her bones would too. 

But she wakes up slow, with each part of her body coming alive, each sense filtering in individually, the earth, the leaves, the birds, a buzzing near her ears, the gentle lap of a nearby lake, and the sinking dread when she realises she’s very,  _ very  _ far from home. 

Getting up on shaky legs, her feet threaten to slip out from underneath her. The earth compresses and water seeps out, the mud near the lake is like sponge, and she finds it hard to find purchase when her knees feel like they’re seconds away from giving out. Her lack of dress doesn’t make sense, she realises when the wind starts brushing against places it shouldn't, and her hand goes to touch her torso, gone is the shirt she’d thought she’d put on to sleep. Her hand touches something wet and warm. 

And then she looks down, because the feeling is accompanied by an unpleasant twinge in her muscle, and pulls her hand from her side to see it come back streaked with dark red blood. 

-

Five hours since it was called in. 

A while until they'll start sending word out officially. But for now, this is the waiting period. The limbo between missing and  _ Missing _ . 

She’s not terrified, just concerned. Sam’s a grown adult who can take care of herself, but Ruby’s just a kid and this doesn’t make sense, she’s not the type to leave Ruby alone without telling her in advance, she’s not the type to not answer her phone when she leaves twenty missed calls over the course of the morning, and a number of messages. 

The phone rings, but it isn't the news she exactly wants. 

It's...  _ worse?  _ It's a distraction? It  _ could  _ be good. It would have made her feel elated and validated, she's been proven right. 

Someone else saw the cryptid. 

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to keep an eye out,” she says as the hunter hangs up. 

The news doesn’t fill her with relief. It doesn’t make her feel as satisfied as it should, someone else has seen it. They took a shot at it. It bled, like any other earthly creature would. 

She puts down the phone, a clatter that sounds too loud in the quiet station. There’s the grainy radio mumbling away in the background, the weather report. Not too warm today, clouds are going to turn into rain later in the week. Someone takes another phone call, and their voice goes loud as they recognise the person on the other end, calling for a friendly conversation. 

There are still several people missing. Their faces seem to stare at her from across the station, pinned up on the notice board. 

Sam's will join them too. Every hour that ticks by, is an hour towards

She has to tear her eyes away. This is a step in the right direction. 

Even if she feels crappy about it. 

There is no time to panic. No time to freak out. 

She has to focus on what needs to be done immediately. Ruby is with her, and she needs to get her somewhere safe. That is her main priority. 

Ruby sits at Alex’s desk, her eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, backpack by her feet, and a box of tissues in her lap. 

She thinks she’s subtle, but Alex can hear her tugging for more tissues every once in a while. 

She’s got a missing person report in front of her. There’s a team being mobilised, a few officers that they managed to call in who weren’t already on call or out with their own families. 

There’s a solemn silence in the air, and she wants to help the kid but she’s not sure how. Even though they’ve met a few times, she's struggling without Sam there, struggling under the weight of her own emotions. 

“Hey, don’t cry. We'll get her back to you, I promise,” 

“I’m not worried about  _ me _ ,” Ruby says, and she scrunches up her nose, shoving her hands in her pockets. “If she’s out there, on her own. She’ll be scared. She needs me,” 

Alex remembers Sam’s words, what she’d said in the safety of the blanket fort, and a heaviness settles in her chest. Sam had talked about their struggle, but of course, Ruby was conscious of it. She’s smart enough to have known, to understand. 

She grew out of blanket forts, but kept making them because she knew they made her mom happy. That was what she did. She was her world, and she'd do anything to protect her, just like Sam would do anything to protect Ruby. 

“I’ll get her back, Ruby. I promise. In the meantime, if you want, you can stay here, unless you want me to call someone to get you-“ 

Ruby gives her a silent shake of the head. Her eyes speak more than words ever could, as Ruby wraps her arms around Alex's waist and holds her impossibly tight. 

-

She just wanted to know if she was right. If the thoughts that had haunted her were of a real thing. 

Now she wishes she hadn’t gone out into the dark. 

She can’t remember all the events that lead up to what happened, all she remembers is the crack of a rifle, and then a burst of pain which somehow woke her up, only for a moment. 

Then she remembers Alex. As she was leaving, still turned towards the door as if she wasn’t ready to completely leave just yet. 

And she remembers smiling wide and feeling  _ happy _ , until a strange sound reaches her ears. 

Then she was closing the door, and heading through the house. Fast, faster. She knocks things over on her way but it doesn’t matter, she’s focused on the back door, on the shadows of trees she can see through the window. She bursts out onto the back porch, a thundering from her feet on the old decking, but she can’t see anything in the trees. 

She can hear it though. 

The howling starts again. 

And it’s...  _ calling  _ to her? Is there something in the forest? It sounds close, too close. 

 

Now she’s here. 

Alone. 

_ Cold.  _

Arms wrapped around herself as she finally reaches the cabin — she’s never been here before? But she feels like she knows it. Like some part of her recognises this as safe, as home. There’s no front door, so the floor is covered with dried leaves and twigs and dust and it all sticks to her sore, dirt-covered body as her legs give out. 

She won’t die here, but she’s  _ tired _ , and her body seems adamant on pulling her under. She has the piece of mind to reach for a scrap of fabric close to her, to pull it to the wound on the 

There’s a bed right there, but she can’t make it up there, not when her bones feel as heavy as lead. 

She’s closing her eyes when she hears it again. 

That same, long, drawn out howl. It starts in her throat, an animalistic sound that isn’t... her. It isn’t her that calls out in response, and she wonders if maybe she’s losing it. She could totally be losing it right now. She’s hearing things, as her senses become clouded, the more she focuses the less she sees, like she's staring too close at a storm through a window, and her breath is fogging up the glass. 

But even through the fog, one thing remains clear. 

It's her. 

_ She's  _ the source of that howl. 

-

The map taunts her. Ruby looks at it strangely, but doesn’t say anything. She’s in her own world, closed off again. 

She gets Ruby settled, she gives up her room — the ‘spare room’ is filled with half-emptied boxes and other junk that she’s been meaning to get rid of. Once she’s sure the girl is fine, she leaves her alone, because she isn’t sure how she can help. 

She turns down the offer of food, she doesn’t want to watch TV. She gets out her headphones and sits on the bed and all but waits for Alex to leave. 

There’s only one way that Alex can truly make this better. She has to get Sam back. 

The map taunts her. Her notes on the wall, the links between the disappearances. She’d never thought that she’d have to add Sam’s own disappearance onto the pile. 

She writes a small note. Just the date. Finds a pin. The road that she’d been walking down is about the length of her finger, the point in question is easy to find.

She pins down the note, and backs away from the wall, and feels swamped by the sheer magnitude of the forest, which spreads across the entire top half of the map. It’s hard not to let that get her down. She’s only just wandered off, she can’t have gone far, but the forest is immense, and the more she stares at it, the more she feels her hopes drowning. 

When she runs her hands along the curve of the coastline, she remembers Sam, doing something similar. But she was curious about the map like it was some kind of novelty. A glimpse of something interesting. 

And now she was a part of it-

No. Alex shakes her head, and walks to the kitchen, her back to the map. Sam  _ wasn’t  _ going to be one of the other disappearances. She wasn’t, she  _ couldn’t  _ be. 

She’d been  _ here,  _ barely a few weeks ago, on her couch. She had no reason to run, did she? And even if she did, she wouldn’t run away and leave her daughter behind like that. She’d never. 

She’s going for the wine at first, but changes her mind and instead pours herself a generous glass of whiskey. The sight reminds her of Johnsons’ farm, of the glass by the table, a man expecting for things to be just a regular night. 

How could something like that just- how could someone plan for that, and just leave? Mrs Williams did the same thing too, she disappeared and left her child behind, but that was a different circumstance, completely different. 

That traitorous, cruel part of her mind wonders if this is the work of a serial, but the burn of whiskey stops that in its tracks. 

She had just wandered off. 

People did that, right? Impulsive thoughts and what not. 

Same type of thoughts that had her sitting by the map again, staring at it till the red wool lines and the faded notes burned into the back of her eyes. 

She doesn't move until she hears movement, and it sets her on edge since she's not used to hearing people in her house. She reaches out for something to grab but the soft voice calling out has her stopping in her tracks.

“Officer Alex?” 

She relaxes, stops reaching out for a weapon that isn’t there.

The kid stands there, wringing her hands together with wide eyes. She’s twelve years old, and it shows. 

Alex is very far out of her depth here. 

There’s an awkward silence before Alex gently asks- “Hey, kiddo. What are you doing up?” 

She reels back a little, and it doesn’t seem aggressive but her response comes out quick, “What are  _ you  _ doing up?” 

“I- I can’t sleep. I was just thinking. Do you want a glass of-“ she glances down, and Ruby’s eyes follow hers and they both look at the glass of whiskey in her hand. Alex puts the whiskey on the table after clearing her throat, and looks back up at a rather baffled Ruby. “Do you want like, milk or something? Soda? I’ve got soda-“ 

“No,” The girl shakes her head, her nose wrinkles and she wrings her hands. It takes her a while, she gathers her courage before she softly asks- “Can I sit with you?” 

“You sure can.” Alex tries to remember what her trauma response briefings had said back in the day.  _ Be emotionally available.  _  “You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” 

“Uh... okay then,” 

And they fall into silence. That’s about as much as Alex can think of to say. Ruby doesn't want to talk. The TV isn’t on. There’s no music in the house. She can hear the hum of the old fridge, the sounds of a passing car. The ticking of a clock. 

They sit. 

Her eyes don’t seem to be resting on Alex. They look around the room, and Alex wonders what she sees. It’s a lot cleaner than it used to be, but the house is still  _ old _ . Faded carpets, outdated furniture, peeling wallpaper, the big map pinned up on the living room wall. 

It’s a far cry from the well-maintained, lived in  _ home  _ that she usually stays in. 

She’s looking at the map, and there’s a furrow in her brow that makes her look just like her mother. The similarity strikes her and in that instant, she’s wondering what she’s doing out there, all alone in the woods when Ruby starts to speak. “That’s the whole forest? Are those mountains?” 

“Yeah,” Alex says. She takes a long sip out of her glass, before setting it down empty. 

Ruby slumps a little. She picks at some healing skin on one of her knuckles. “She doesn’t know anything about the wilderness,” 

Instinct has her reaching out a hand, but she doesn’t quite know what to do with it, so she pulls it back, and clenches it into a fist. “She’ll be fine, we’ll find her,” What can she offer other than these empty words? 

“Do we have helicopters? Satelites?” 

“Our town’s a little too small for helicopters,” She says matter of factly, staring at the map, the green expanse, the rhythm of the contour lines following the hills and valleys of the region. “We already found your mom’s phone too, so we can’t use that to narrow things down. We’ll send out a search party, we’re getting some help from the rangers. That’s about it though,” 

She regrets being honest when she glances away from the map, and sees the girl with tears brimming in her eyes. 

“We’ll get her though. She can’t have gone far.” 

Alex can only hope she hasn’t gone far. 

There are things in the forest that defy logic, defy belief. The people of Midvale are crazy, but there’s truth to what they say. You don’t go too far out into the woods alone, unless you’re not planning on coming back. 

\- 

“Here,” Alex says, sliding the plate over to Ruby. 

Her nose wrinkles, and Alex really can’t find it in herself to be too upset about that because it’s truly not her best work. It’s store bought but the microwave has rendered it practically inedible. It’d do, but it doesn’t look appetising in the slightest. 

But she has to eat. She can't go to sleep hungry. 

“I don’t like mac and cheese,” 

“What do you- all kids like mac and cheese,” 

“I mean, I do like mac and cheese, but only when my mom makes it. Not the box stuff,” 

The silence settles heavy in the air between them, but Alex doesn’t know of what else to do. 

She is so far out of her depth right now, but there’s no real other choice, is there? Ruby’s alone. The only family she has in town is Sam. Alex had thought that since this was Sam’s kid, and they’d had a few chances to hang out before, that this wouldn’t be so bad, but she really had no idea how she did it. 

And the circumstances didn’t help either. It’s stupid, but she’s tired, and emotionally exhausted, and the sight and smell of the rancid mac and cheese are driving her to the edge. 

How had she ever thought she’d be a mother. She could barely even keep this kid fed on her own in an emergency, how would she do it every day? 

“Here, I’ve got an idea,” she says, swiping the bowl away from Ruby just as she lowers her fork to take the first tentative bite, and she catches Ruby’s relieved sigh as she tries to dump it into the sink. 

The neon yellow concoction refuses to even budge from the bowl. 

“Yeah that’s inedible. C’mon kid,” 

She follows her out to the front yard as she gets her helmet and keys, and rolls the bike down to face the road. Ruby doesn’t quite get what Alex is doing. She stares at her blankly for a few seconds, and it’s only when Alex holds out the second helmet she has, the one usually reserved for her sister when she comes to visit, that her brow furrows and she speaks. 

Words from her now are rare and clipped. It’s a stark contrast from the other few times Alex has met her where Sam couldn’t get her to stop hounding her. 

“We’re going on  _ that? _ ” She points to the bike, and it’s confusion and a little bit of excitement that Alex sees. 

She knows that she might not be comforting, but she can at least be somewhat cool. She spins her helmet around and tugs it on, patting at the pinion seat behind her. 

“You have to hold on tight though, and don’t tell your mom when she gets back,” 

It’s something she says casually, tugging her visor afterwards and preparing to start up the engine. It’s when the bike doesn’t move with the added weight of a passenger that she realises that Ruby hasn’t jumped up on the back. 

She’s standing there with the helmet between her hands, lost in thought. 

_ Shit _ . When she gets back. Why did she say that? This kid was pessimistic (or realistic). 

She flips her visor up, and tries for comforting. 

“Hey, we’re going to get her back, I promised-“ 

“I know. You told me. Like, a lot,” And Ruby tugs on the helmet, clambering onto the back of the bike. 

A solid way to end a conversation. 

She rides several miles under the limit, just to be on the safe side. Ruby rests her head against her back, and holds on. If it was possible to see her sadness, Alex was sure she’d have a raincloud behind her right now, hovering just over the girl’s head. 

-

She walks in and she’s just  _ tired.  _ It’s that kind of tired, the bone-deep sort of tired. It’s late, and she just wants to rest. Every minute that passes without any sign of her makes her wonder if she’s really gone for good — disappeared, just like the others.

Eliza is a blessing. There’s dinner in a pot on the stove, and she serves herself and Ruby some before wandering off to find her mother.  

The house is quiet save for the sounds of clattering cutlery in the kitchen. It’s not unusual for the house to be like this. Most of the lights off, no music or television. It was a house, but it was mostly a shell when Eliza was in it alone.  

She and her mother were complete opposites in most ways, but one similarity they now shared was they found the need for mindless clutter, noise and what not to be trivial, or at least, easy to ignore. 

Perhaps for Alex it came from city living, from being constantly surrounded by people, by noise, her apartment was the one place she could shut everything off, shut down for a while before having to face all that shit again in the morning. 

But for Ruby... 

Sam’s different. Her house is only just moved into, but it feels like she’s been living there for years. Everything holds a memory, holds a story, the pictures on the walls, the clutter on the fridge, the mismatched furniture — a vase here, an odd shaped sculpture there, the weathered and well-loved video tape collection. It feels like the items themselves could talk. 

And it isn’t like the chaotic mess of what Kara calls ‘knick-knacks’ in that loft apartment she has in National City. It’s restrained, but there are places where Ruby’s influence creeps in. Muddy soccer boots by the door, hoodie left on the sofa, her pencil case and all her pens scattered across the dining room table. 

Sam’s house is a  _ home _ . 

The Danvers’ house is just that. A house. 

But Ruby seems intrigued. Interested. Alex wonders what she sees when she walks through, finding the few old photos, some of the older pieces of furniture seem interesting to her. She’s not talking much, not saying anything at all, really. But she’s distracted at least, and maybe that’s okay for now. 

Eliza takes a few moments to put herself together. Glasses and the journal she was writing in are placed on the table beside the couch. She tidies her hair up, brushing it out and tying it up as Alex waits like always. 

“Hey, Mom,” 

“It’s serious then,” 

“I brought the kid. She’s got nowhere else to go-“ 

“Say no more. I’ll go have a talk to her in a few,” 

The conversation ceases as Alex watches, her arms crossed as she leans back against the door frame. 

“I remember what it was like for you,” she says, and her eyes are melancholic. “When your father-“ 

“This isn’t the same Mom. She’s just missing. She’s out there somewhere,”

Eliza steps towards her. It's weird, because her arms are outstretched, and Alex doesn't want to be hugged right now. 

But she only gives her arms a quick squeeze, before she says "Go have a shower. Put something else on. You've probably been in those clothes all day," then she's off to find where Ruby's wandered off to. 

She showers. The hot water helps a little, but the silence makes her mind wander, and when her mind wanders she's thinking of the cold outside, of Sam out in it. 

She cuts off the water after her thoughts go dark, and she gets dressed in something more comfortable. 

It's when she's walking out that she hears something that freezes her in place, that shakes her to the core, roots her to the spot. The stilted, discordant sounds of the old piano, out of tune and out of time. 

All of a sudden she’s fifteen again, coming home from an evening spent out pretending to be older than she was. She’s fifteen again, and she’s walking softly through the hall to try to sneak to her room when she hears Kara’s laughter, and sees her there, between Eliza and Jeremiah, their six hands on the piano playing together in a clumsy yet...  _ full  _ sounding chorus. 

The notes fill her ears, and she walks slow, sticking near the wall so the ground doesn’t creak, but she knows when she turns the corner he won’t be there. 

It’s Eliza. Beside her is Ruby, a bit younger than Kara was at that moment, a bit taller. Her dark hair beside Eliza’s greying blonde, as Eliza points out the notes on a yellowed piece of paper, and Ruby tries to play along in time. 

She remembers what it was like as a teenager. Watching her mother with another child, she remembers that jealousy, because it had been  _ her spot  _ that Kara was sitting in, even though she’d started to push her parents away, even though she’d acted like she hated playing piano. 

She doesn’t feel that now, this just deepens that hollow and empty feeling in her chest. 

Ruby laughs. She laughs, because right now her mother isn’t on her mind. She’s in the moment, focused on not fumbling with the keys, on hitting the right notes as Eliza fills in, a little rusty, but with enough energy to carry it through. 

Ruby laughs, and Alex wishes Sam was here to see it-

But nothing’s happened to her of course. 

She’s fine. 

She has to be. 

But that traitorous, evil little part of her mind whispers to her,  _ what if she isn’t _ ? And she can’t know for sure until she sees her home safe. 

She’s stood in this doorway too long. Eliza pauses in her playing, turns around and gives her a smile. 

“Alex? Come and join us,” 

It’s when Ruby’s playing stops, and she looks back at Alex, that her face drops just a bit. She must read something on Alex’s face, must see something in her eyes. That doubt, that concern, that  _ fear  _ that something’s happened, something she could have prevented. 

“Were you standing there long?” Eliza asks. 

“No, I’m actually-“ she stumbles on her words a bit, as a decision is made. “I’m actually- can she stay here while I-,” 

"Of course. You don't have to ask," She isn't a cruel mother, but the moments of softness are often dispersed between equal moments of bitterness. Like a rosebush, the whole thing, not just the blooms or the thorns but both in equal measure. 

She hopes she gets her gratitude through the look she gives her. She glances back at Ruby again. 

"Are you going to go find her?" 

"Yeah. I need you to stay here with my Mom. To keep an eye on her while I go bring some stuff to the station." 

Eliza arches an eyebrow at her, but when Ruby nods with a very serious expression set on her face, Alex reckons it's the right thing to have said. 

-

There’s a slanted column of amber light across the center of the map. The lines of roads and trails are like a network of veins. Her notes remain pinned to the map, she knows them by heart now, she’s stared at the map so many times, they’re burned into her memory. And yet, still, she can’t find the cabin. She doesn’t know where it is. She doesn’t know where the wolf is. She can’t find these missing people. 

And now  _ Sam  _ is one of them. 

These are people she knows. People she’s seen around, for years. Some of them, like Johnson, are people she’s known for her whole life, even if they weren’t exactly friends, or even acquaintances. 

She knows these people, and they are known around town, they are as fundamental to Midvale as the shape of the cliffs, the trees that made up the forest, the smell of salt on the air. 

But— and admitting this to herself hurts, — it only feels real now that Sam is gone. 

She feels sick to her stomach as she stares at the map, at the miles of woodland that spread out in almost every direction. At the collection of notes, all dead ends. 

It’s daunting, and it’s frightening, and here she feels how far out of her depth she is. How very  _ alone  _ she feels. 

She’s not working alone, but there is no task force in Midvale, no calling on nearby precincts, there are no large meeting rooms to hold briefings in, there’s only her and a handful of other officers, who are barely equipped to deal with something like this. 

So many disappearances. 

A town that feels like it barely wants to cooperate. 

And to top that all off, the only clue she has is- 

She looks up at the map again. The cryptid sightings, in a different colour to the rest of the notes across the map. It’s like she’s pulled towards it, her hand tracing the path she’d taken out of the woods, out onto the street with her bike after the accident. 

She knows she passed a stream at some point. Now she’s working backwards. Her finger dwarfs the tiny etched lines, of streams and roads, as she tries to trace a path to something that isn’t on the map. 

She lets her finger fall from the map when she knows her search is fruitless. She knows generally that she had to be heading towards the road from within the woods, but there’s still so far she could have travelled. 

There's a thud. Loud and hollow, coming from the side of the house. 

Her hand flies to her hip. There's nothing there but her trackpants, and she curses herself for dressing practical. 

The scrape of- wood against the wall? A branch? Again. 

There's a breeze outside, but nothing to make a sound like  _ that _ . 

Another thud. 

_ Creak _ . 

The little porch she has would stop any branches getting close enough to do that. There's a chance the wind's carried something. She doesn't have to be so on edge as she makes her way across the room. It's coming from the porch. 

Dark shadows play on the back window. It starts again. Something's moving against the back door of the porch. 

She flicks on the light. It's a lonely bulb, as soon as it flickers to life, sickly yellow, a few moths brave the weather to circle towards it. 

She hears breathing. In, out, a grotesque heavy breathing on the other side of the door. Almost sucking in air, uneven and unsteady. 

_ The cryptid _ . 

As soon as she thinks it, that's what she can picture on the other side, and her blood runs colder than the air sneaking in through the gaps in the old door, and she's scrambling through the house for her gun. Three steps has her finding it, but she's  _ loud _ , her heart is thundering in her chest and she bumps against the coffee table with her stumbling, nearly knocking over the quarter-full bottle of whiskey on the way there. Every noise she makes is cacophonous, and it only gets worse. 

The noises outside get louder too. 

Her hands tremble- why is she trembling? She's conscious of everything, the clumsy movements of her fingers as she checks the gun, as she loads it, turns off the safety, runs back to the door, ready to finish it off. 

It's not getting her this time. 

She should have known better than to believe in the mercy of a beast. 

Whatever it did to Sam... it wasn't going to get her too. 

She pushes at the door, and the scrabbling of claws is the first thing she hears, but the door is weighted so heavy by the large body behind the door, that is trying to force its way towards her. 

She points the gun, a cry gathering in her throat as she gets ready to pull the trigger, but as she starts to squeeze the trigger, in amongst the gnashing of those terrible teeth and the hand-sized paws gouging grooves in her back porch, she notices something in the eyes of the beast. 

She hesitates. 

And then it hits her. 

They go tumbling down. The gun doesn't go off, but the sound of it clattering to the ground is loud and clear and echoing in her brain as her head hits back against the thin carpet, stars burst over her vision, and she's got seconds to act. 

She gets her arms between her and the wolf, and she pushes,  _ hard.  _ With all her might, and it lets out an ungodly scream, a shriek as her hands meet with raw flesh, and as it tumbles to the side, she gets an opening to get as  _ far  _ away from it as possible. 

Hands and legs scrambling, she's only vaguely conscious of the blood on her hands, she's only focusing on the beast. 

And now she sees it, in the woods, where it was tall and ethereal, now, with white fur matted with mud and dark red blood, seeping from a wound on its side, it looks at her, crouched low, tail between its legs, ears flat against its head, eyes bulging wide, focused on her, it blinks from the pain as its spindly legs tremble. 

It isn't fighting her. 

It's... _ afraid.  _ Weakened, timid. 

She sees its resolve waning. Its breathing heavy still, but it's making inches back. 

If she reaches for the gun - it's not  _ stupid _ . It will know. It will run, and she will have one shot.

But this is the cryptid, this is proof, this is the most proof she's ever had in her life, proof that her father was right. She will clear his name with this. 

She'll bring it's head in if she has to. 

She sees the split second glance at the door it makes. It stares there, and instead of running, it flinches back. The door swings. Creaky hinges sound the same as the whining of the wolf. It comes with every heavy breath, as if its forced out. 

And then she looks at it again, and meets its eyes. 

And she just... can't. She can't bring herself to kill it. It's  _ afraid,  _ it's injured, she was afraid, she was injured, and what did it do? 

Brought her to safety. Brought her out of the woods. 

She could have died. 

"You saved me," 

The sound of her voice has it flinching. It's eyes now lock onto her. It doesn't look away, but it still crouches, long legs trembling as it readies itself to run. 

Her throat feels dry as she slowly gets to her feet. Her heart still races, but she tries her damndest to keep every motion slow. 

\- 

Sam's body hurts, but she knows she's somewhere safe enough. 

Not  _ entirely safe.  _

Safer than out there. 

Safe for now. 

And then it hurts more. That pain on her abdomen, it grows and burns, and her arms and legs can't hold her anymore. She's falling to the ground, and there's a gasp as the skin all over her body feels like it's being stretched, pulled, well past the point of pain, and she throws her head back, every tendon of her neck straining out as a silent cry comes out of her mouth then - 

Hands on her body, a voice in her ears, muddled, like she's listening through water. 

And then she is certain. 

She is safe. 

_ Safe _ . 

-

"Sam?! Oh god- you're naked, shit. What the fuck. What the  _ actual  _ fuck," The words that leave her mouth aren't logical, they don't make sense, they're more like the soundtrack of her processing rather than words of comfort for the unconscious woman in her arms right now. 

She's had it all wrong. 

Sam's head rolls back as she cradles her in her arms. The woman who was, as of two moments ago, the cryptid. 

Sam was never at risk of being attacked by the wolf. 

She  _ is  _ the wolf. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a lot of things happened there, but hey, we're over that hill and it's time for things to get spicy :P 
> 
> see you in two days or so for the next part of this :)


	10. rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well this is a lot of... well... stuff. 
> 
> the aftermath of the reveal. a common theme of mothers, secrets, and the ocean i guess? feat. ruby arias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i said two days... i was wrong. i did have a lot of this written when i posted the previous chapter though! it just took a while to piece this one together properly. enjoy...

"Stay with me, please. Please Sam," her fingers, stained with Sam's own blood, slip against her sweat-covered skin as she tries to find her pulse. It's there, and it's rabbit-quick, she isn't sure what that means, but she's relieved that it's strong. 

The room swims when she struggles to stand up. She's dead weight in her arms- ouch. Wrong choice of words. She's uncooperative due to being unconscious, her head falls back and it's... awkward to say the least. 

She's an unconscious naked woman in her house, with a gunshot wound through her torso. There are bigger things to worry about than modesty right now, but Alex still tries to keep her eyes averted somewhat as she hoists her up and makes her way towards the hallway. 

THUNK. 

She winces, and glances at Sam's legs, one of which hit the wall with enough force to leave a slight dent. 

She walks her sideways through, and makes sure she avoids bumping Sam's head on the threshold as she gets into the bathroom. 

-

She sees the ceiling first, and feels something cold, hard, and unyielding beneath her head, pressing against her skull and the bare skin of her neck. 

She grimaces, drawing in a deep breath, and it pulls at something on her side, something that throbs with a dull sort of ache. She's barely dressed, there's a towel covering her at least, and as she blinks and her eyes make sense of what's above her, she starts to be aware of other things. 

The light in the bathroom is blue-white, it makes her eyes burn - or maybe that's just something else. There's a towel half in the sink, dripping pink water onto the ground. There's someone in the room with her, searching for something, she can hear things moving. 

She groans, and starts to sit up, her skin catching against the dry surface of the bath, and a cold hand rests on her shoulder, pushing her back down. 

"Stay there, and don't move, I have gauze here somewhere-" She knows that voice, and it instills a deep comfort in her. 

'Alex'. She doesn't know why, but it comes out more like a croak. Her mouth feels like it's filled with cotton wool, that throbbing pain on her side catches her when she breathes in to speak. 

Her fingers feel raised skin, a series of bumps, stitches, on her side. Raw skin, a recent wound, stitched up along her side. 

"Did you- take a kidney?" 

"I'd have to go through the back to do that," she chuckles, her voice thankfully quiet as she guides Sam back to lying down, her free hand pressing a damp towel to her face, which feels lovely on her heated skin. Alex's face comes into her vision then, and while a part of her is relieved, her heart sinks as she sees the concern painted onto her pale face. "What do you remember?" 

She closes her eyes, but sifting through her memories feels harder than it should. There are pieces she recalls. The wood of the cabin. The forest floor beneath her feet, sharp twigs and wet earth. A sound- a gunshot. 

The howling. 

Her eyes widen, and she can't figure out how to say all that. All that comes out is one word. "There was- the forest- wolf- I left the house-" 

She must see it's making her stress, making her panic. Alex shushes her, a finger resting on her lips. 

"It's okay, it's okay. Just calm down," That cool towel is pressed against her skin again, and she dips it into a bowl by her side. Sam's never been so grateful to have her here. 

Her eyes slip closed. There are small little cuts on her face, she isn't sure how they got there, maybe when she was running? They sting, and she twitches as Alex gets the corner of one that's particularly deep. 

Then she hears a small gasp. 

She opens her eye, blinking a couple of times so the water dripping down her face doesn't get in her eyes. 

"It's gone," 

“What?” that doesn’t make sense. She reaches her hand to her forehead, and feels the surface of her skin, smooth and unmarked where that sharp cut had been just a moment ago. 

But the wound on her forehead has disappeared, leaving behind nothing, no pain, no scar, just smooth skin. 

“That bullet wound might take longer to heal even if that disappeared so fast- that’s-“ 

“Wait did you just say  _ bullet _ \- I was shot?” 

“You didn’t know?” 

“No I didn’t know I- oh my god,” it hits her with a sudden chill, that she brushed so close with something so fatal. She touches her the wound on her stomach again, and she's never seen a gunshot before, never held a gun, and it brings a tremble to her hand. “I could have  _ died _ \- oh my god where’s Ruby?” 

Alex stops her from going into a full on panic attack. She grabs both of Sam's hands, redirects her focus away from the wound on her side, and to her, dark eyes intense and focused. “Ruby is at my mom’s, probably being bored to death by her stories about me and my sister as kids. She’s safe. We'll go see her now, okay?" 

"Okay. Okay," It isn't a question. She trusts Alex to take her to Ruby, and some semblance of calm returns. 

-

From this point on, time is separated into before, and after. 

It feels like she exists in two parts, and the seams between her two consciousnesses start to become evident when she looks at them. 

Those little moments of blankness during her day are when that boundary between her two halves thin, and the world becomes simultaneously more vivid and less coherent. 

There is a part of her that will forever be that scared sixteen year old, with problems too big for her to really understand. A part of her, deep down inside beneath years of careful rebuilding, that wants to go back to her childhood home to beat at the door till her throat goes hoarse and her fists go numb, till the new tenants inside call the cops on her. 

This is one of those moments, where her problems seem so unfathomably deep and she's drowning yet still instinctively reaching towards someone who isn't there. 

But she's not alone. 

She rests her head on the woman's back in front of her. Alex is a cop, and she probably should be wearing a helmet, but she's given Sam hers and is riding without, her short cropped hair whipping past her face as they take off outside of town.

The buildings fall away, the trees fall away. There are only farms here, wide swathes of open land, and then she sees it, tiny windows are little slivers of light in amongst the dark, set on a large property. 

As soon as the bike reaches the driveway, she sees the front door fly open, and there's someone running to meet them, a frantic run that's almost a frolic, and she hears her over the roar of the engine, calling out for her. 

"Ruby!" She says, and before the bike has even fully stopped, she's throwing the helmet off. 

"Sam, be carefu-" 

Alex reaches to steady her as she leaps off, and she does stumble quite a bit, she pushes off the ground with her hands though and narrowly avoids a collision with her face but then she's being nearly tackled to the ground by Ruby, her arms squeezing so tight around her that it hurts the wound on her side. 

But she doesn't care. 

She's safe. She's okay. She’s  _ here.  _

The engine cuts off, and as she squeezes her daughter close, she can hear her crying too. But she’s warm, and safe, and alive, and she can feel her racing heartbeat gradually slowing down as Ruby’s hands clutch at her borrowed clothes. 

She opens her eyes for only a moment when she hears movement. 

There's an older woman silhouetted by the porch light. Alex's boots crunch on the gravel, and she walks up to the woman, speaking to her in hushed tones. 

That must be her mother. 

This is Alex’s mother’s house. To say Sam is overcome with emotion is an understatement, it nearly drowns her, but her mother didn’t raise her to be impolite. 

"Rubes, I gotta walk and thank Alex's mom for keeping you," 

"'M not letting you go," is mumbled very helpfully into her neck, and her legs are suddenly trapped as she throws her legs around her. 

It's a miracle that she doesn't fall down right then and there. Her body is still exhausted, even though Ruby's arm is right over the injury now and it isn't stinging as much as before. 

She sees Alex flinch from where she’s standing, getting ready to make her way over. Their eyes meet, and Sam can see the silent question in her eyes. She gives her a nod to reassure her. She's fine, she's not about to fall over. She’ll always be able to carry her baby, even if her baby is now twelve years old. Ruby doesn't let go entirely, but she does ease up just a bit, and returns her legs to the ground. 

This isn't how she imagined meeting Alex's mom for the first time — not that she imagined this going in any particular way (she didn’t want to let herself fall too fast). 

Her eyes are soft as she looks at Sam and the octopus that is Ruby. It makes the lines around storm-grey eyes look more pronounced. She feels small, even though the woman is a little shorter than Alex. She holds one hand out, the other still wrapped around Ruby. 

“Thank you Mrs Danvers, for taking care of my daughter for me,” Sam says, and the older woman gives her a smile. 

“First of all, it’s Eliza to you, and second of all, it’s no problem at all.” She walks over and holds her arms out for a hug instead of a handshake, and Sam brings the older woman in, wishing she could get everything across with one strong hug. 

“Thank you,  _ Eliza _ ,” 

She really can’t express how grateful she is right now, but it feels like Eliza gets it when she taps at her arm for her to let go. 

 

It’s a beautiful place. The kind of place that Sam would picture when thinking of a real family home. Big open living area, pictures on the walls, hardwood floors and high vaulted ceilings. 

They're shown to a spare room. Sam can barely make sense of any of it. It seems like everything is hitting her at once, as the adrenaline wears off. 

Ruby grounds her. This room is unfamiliar, this house even more so, but home has never been about buildings to her, not when a significant portion of hers was spent jumping from place to place. Home is where Ruby is, and she knows she’s only been missing for one day, but it feels like it’s been a week, and the hours that passed in that bathroom felt like  _ days _ . 

But she’s here now. As she settles onto bed, with Ruby in her arms, she’s  _ home.  _

Ruby doesn’t say anything. She rests her head on her shoulder, has her arms wrapped around her torso. Sam can feel her dozing off, can feel the steady thump-thump of her heart as everything finally settles. Her hair is a tangled mess when she rests her cheek against the side of her head, places a kiss on her forehead before burying her nose in her hair to find her scent. 

She tries to focus on her breathing again. On holding her daughter close. She’s never going to leave her like that, ever. Sam’s going to find a way to fix this. If not for herself, then for Ruby. 

There’s movement in her periphery, and instinct has her muscles tensing around her daughter. 

It’s only Alex. She doesn’t enter, only lingers in the doorway, a hand resting on the threshold. Sam wonders if she can convey everything that she feels right now in a single look. The confusion. The fear. The relief. The gratitude. 

She doesn’t know what Alex gets from that, but she gives her a small smile and a nod, before gently closing the door. 

-

Alex feels like she too can rest now, knowing that Sam and Ruby have been reunited. The kid hadn’t slept well, and it seems to be hitting her all at once. She rests a hand against the door, as she gently closes it, letting go of the doorknob and resting her head against it. 

It’s relief now. It all sinks in, washes over her. The emotions that surge up within her are enough to have her eyes watering, the corners of her mouth turning up, it’s a surge of adrenaline, a hit of validation. 

And now she knows that Sam is safe, she’s okay. 

That's how Eliza finds her. 

She's leaving the bathroom, already set for bed when she notices Alex and pauses. It takes Alex several seconds to notice she's there. 

"A long day?" 

"You don't know the half of it," Alex shakes her head, before backing away from the door, running a hand through her hair. "I need a drink," 

"I've only got wine," Eliza says, it sounds a little bit like she’s judging her, but Alex can’t find it within her to care. 

"It'll do," 

 

The boxed wine isn't the best, but exhausted beggars can't be choosers. Eliza's waiting for an explanation, that much is obvious. 

Alex avoids responding for as long as she can. She gets halfway through her glass when Eliza finally caves. 

"So, where did you end up finding her?" 

Alex can tell Eliza’s been waiting to ask this. Alex takes another sip, the thin red wine tastes sour and metallic. She places the glass on the table. She can’t even pretend to find that wine more interesting than this important conversation. 

"She found me, actually. She showed up at my house." She says, as she tries to clear her mouth of the aftertaste. 

"Interesting," Eliza says, and Alex figures it really must be. She studies her, as if Alex’s face might give her away when she speaks next. "So the missing town accountant knows to go to the police lieutenant's house. She knows where she lives," 

Of course Sam would know where she lives, but Eliza doesn’t know- 

_ Wait.  _

Alex tries to backtrack, tries to piece together a narrative from her mother’s perspective, from what she knows. Alex meets a woman at the station. They go to the diner for coffee. They’re seen around town. She invites her over to her house. 

The woman goes missing. 

Alex panics, and takes care of her kid till she magically appears at Alex’s house. 

"Mom, I don't understand-" 

"There's something you're not telling me about this woman, about what she means to you. About what happened to her yesterday." 

Alex doesn't know what to say, she's not sure how to deal with this line of questioning. She doesn’t know what her mother is trying to get out of her, and she’s trying to get  _ something _ . 

"But I won't ask, because I figure there's a reason you're not telling me. Just... be careful. You-..." She reaches out, and rests a hand over Alex’s. "I worry about my daughter," 

It's sitting there, in the half-lit living room, sharing boxed wine with her mother, exhausted, physically and emotionally -- that she sees her properly for the first time. 

Her mother knows more than she lets on. 

It’s in the look in her eyes, the way she searches Alex’s face, for any trace of  _ something  _ in her expression. It’s in the way she offers comfort, when she rarely ever does so. 

She’s  _ worried  _ in the same way that J’onn was worried. In the same way that everyone in town has been  _ worried _ . 

She’s not going to fall down the same path as her father, but looking back on herself now, she can see why her behaviour is a concern for those around her. Without the context, she looks like she’s losing it, just like Jeremiah had, once he’d gotten close to finding out about the cryptid. 

“I’m fine, mom. She’s home now,” 

-

It’s the next day, while Eliza drops a very reluctant Ruby off at school, that they get time to  _ talk.  _

The stairs are built into the cliffs. They spiral down and double back to get to the beach below, their own private slice of paradise. 

Alex knows this beach like the back of her hand. This corner of it, nearly inaccessible to most. It’s not the idyllic beachside of Midvale proper, the waves are too strong for weak swimmers, too unpredictable, but they’re perfect for surfing. 

She’s not surfing now. 

The bracing breeze and the salt in the air always help her relax, always help her center herself when life gets hard. She doesn’t know about Sam’s specific needs when it comes to self-reflection and introspection, but she reckons it’s a safe enough bet, and takes her down to the beach with her anyways. 

This part of the beach is cut off from the rest of Midvale’s beaches by a stack of fallen rocks that cut across on one side. There are cliffs on the opposite side, a lighthouse perched on the top. It creates a small, secluded cove, Alex remembers her father calling it their ‘slice’ of heaven. 

The waves are choppy here, good for surfing, not so good for swimming because of the stronger currents and the rocks beneath. It’s volatile, but beautiful in its chaos. The beach on the other side is tamed and common, with a wide sandy beach and plenty of visitors. This beach is narrow, there are more rocks than sand, but Alex has always preferred this corner of Midvale to the rest. 

She wonders what that says about her. 

Sam is trying to scramble up a large rock to sit atop it. She’s trying, and Alex admires her dedication, but her arm strength is lacking so she can’t quite pull herself up. She’s lanky and tall, but she doesn’t seem to be very coordinated, or strong by any means. She gives up after a few tries, and is a little startled when Alex makes her presence known by speaking out. 

“I’ll help you up,” 

She rests her hands on Sam’s hips, and guides her up as she hoists herself onto the rock. She holds out a hand for Alex after she’s up there, but Alex doesn’t need it, she clambers up easily, and sits beside Sam. 

Sam stares out into the churning blue like the waves have her answers, but she can’t quite decipher their language. 

“I need to ask Patricia. She should know,” she says, and turns to look at Alex like she’s asked a question. 

"Patricia?" 

"My mother,” 

"Oh," 

There is still so much she doesn't know about Sam. The way she said that, it didn't sound like she still has a strong connection with her mother. And if what Sam says is true, (she's inclined to believe her, but there's always a chance that she-) then she might know something to shed some light on the situation. 

The thought of going there weighs heavy on Sam. She stares out to sea, and as the wind whips at her hair, Alex swears she sees the beginnings of tears in her eyes. 

Sam doesn't want to get into it right now. It's too much, it's  _ years  _ of sediment that's settled like the silt at the bottom of a clear lake, layers and layers of it that wait to cloud the water at the slightest movement. She's not ready to dredge all that up, the thought of it sets her eyes burning, sets a lump in her throat. 

She feels small. The ocean is large and uninviting, frigid salt water that thrashes at the rocks on the shore. 

The silence hangs long, and after a while the inactivity starts to grate at Alex, there’s a gnawing insistence in her mind that she has to do something. 

“You helped me with those cases. Those people who were missing,” It’s on her mind, and she says it out loud. 

It is the wrong thing to say. 

Sam closes her eyes, and takes in a sharp breath. “Alex, I didn’t  _ know _ \- I wouldn’t _ \- I couldn’t  _ have taken those people. You have to believe me I-“ her voice borders on hysterics, and when she looks at Alex, the wind whipping her hair across her face, her wide eyes brimming with those unshed tears- 

Alex believes her. 

She’s always gone with her gut. 

That won’t change now. 

“I believe you. But I want to figure you out- figure  _ this  _ out. Do you remember my accident?” 

Sam sniffs, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You had an accident?” 

“I fell off my bike. Woke up in an old cabin, there were-“ something clicks. The clothes in there were Sam’s. The white sweater? That’s what she wore to their date. 

“My things, everywhere. And there was no door,” Sam murmurs, and they both look at each other, the realisation sinks in. 

“You know it?” 

“I remember that. From yesterday, when I woke up...” Sam’s brow furrows as she tries to think, and her hand goes to rest on her side, where the wound is. “I woke up near a lake, and then I walked, and then I was at the cabin. But I can’t really... I can’t really remember exactly how I got to each of those places. And I just have to say? It was terrifying. I don’t  _ hate  _ the outdoors, but I don’t exactly enjoy waking up after a blackout naked, bleeding, and covered in mud,” She says that like it’s a joke, she laughs about it, but the laugh seems hollow to the both of them. 

Alex glances at Sam’s hand, still cradling her side. She hasn’t checked up on her since she’s woken up, and she gestures towards it. 

“Can I see how it’s going?” 

“As long as you don’t tell me you need to stitch it up...” Sam gives a little shudder, but otherwise lifts the edge of her shirt. 

It’s amazing. It looks like an old scar already, like something that’s been there for months. She traces the edge of it, and her fingers must be cold, because Sam’s muscles twitch, and she leans back from the touch just a bit. 

“You heal really fast, that’s-“ Alex shakes her head in disbelief. “You really didn’t need stitches.” 

“That’s a good thing, I guess,” 

They start walking back shortly after, and if Sam thought the view going down to the beach was beautiful, this is something else. Slowly ascending up the rough stone cliffs, to see the grass over the crest of it, the house that sits atop a small rise, the trees that dot the landscape, old, alone, watching. 

This is the kind of thing she pictured when she looked at Midvale as a place to visit. There’s something beautiful to be found where the country meets the sea, a special kind of calm. 

She’s wearing Alex’s flannel, and it does an alright job at keeping her warm, but she wishes she had one of her sweaters right now. Alex’s arms are shorter than hers, so the sleeves aren’t as comfortably long as she usually likes them to be. 

Alex walks ahead of her as they go back to the house, along the well-worn track through the grass. She follows her steps, and it’s there that Sam wonders how she found her a pair of shoes to wear. 

And she realises that she wants some clothes of her own. Not that wearing Alex’s clothes aren’t a pleasure in and of itself, but she’d like to have warm ankles again. 

 

So she tells Alex as much, and she gets a chance to go back home to pick up a few things, and Alex finds another helmet at her mother’s place, so they go together on the bike. 

There’s a storage compartment on the bike, that Sam hadn’t even known was there. Sam has enough time to pack, and Alex leaves her to it while she herself goes to her house. 

Packing is fun, when she imagines she’s getting herself ready for an adventure. And that is what it will be, an  _ adventure.  _ As long as she doesn’t think about the destination, it still holds the promise of being enjoyable. 

As long as she doesn’t think of the reason why she’s going, it’s something to look forward to. 

 

Alex packs, but it’s more of a clearing of a single compartment of her dresser into an old duffle bag from National City that she didn’t even know she still had. 

Entering the house, she realises there’s something a lot more pressing than just the upcoming road trip to Patricia’s. 

There are scratches from the porch door, all the way to her living room wall. The possible loss of her bond isn’t what she’s mainly concerned about. Not the marks on the door, the muddy paw prints on the carpet, or the bloody handprints amongst them all. 

It’s what’s on the far wall of the living room. 

The map. 

The sightings. 

The evidence. 

She drops the duffle bag immediately, and with both hands, she starts tearing it all down. Fistfuls of paper crumple in her hands, but it feels like she’s not fast enough, she’s conscious of the fact that a curious enough neighbor could have peered through the gaps in her fading blinds, she’s aware of the fact that her door doesn’t quite lock properly. 

She's halfway through tearing the sheets off the wall when she's hit with a memory, of fire outside of the window, burning bright and hot against the window in the dark of night. 

The evidence is gone. Her notes are gone, but the positions they were in are burned into her retinas, she could see it with her eyes closed. 

She has to take the map down too. 

She can't let anyone find the map. If they investigate, if someone looks into this, they'll see it all. Call it paranoia, but this has to go too. It comes off in large angled pieces, tearing on an angle, she shoves it into the bag with the rest of the things to get rid of. 

Now there's nothing left. Nothing but the small marks in the ugly wallpaper where the push pins went too deep. 

She can hear her mother's voice in her ears. Shouting at Jeremiah to stop, but he hadn’t. He threw all that work away, into the fire, he watched it burn. All those hours of thinking, pondering, of wandering into the forest at night, armed with nothing but a camera and a flashlight. 

He watched it all burn. 

Her throat feels dry, her tongue, cloudy. Shaky hands reach for the bottle that still rests, quarter-full, on the coffee table. 

She stops herself at the last moment. She has to ride back. Wouldn’t be good for Midvale’s legacy cop to get into an accident after- 

_ After something like this _ . 

-

Sam’s arms keep her head firmly on the road on the way back. If Sam can tell that something’s up, she doesn’t mention it. 

She goes inside once they get back, claiming she needs a nap. Alex is going to follow, after putting their helmets away, but something catches her attention right as the screen door closes. 

There’s something up with the barn. 

They call it that, but it's more a large shed. It doesn't know what it wanted to be. They used to store things in here, Alex's board in the winter, the ride-on mower, some other boxes of old stuff. 

She’s rolling her bike over when she catches the sight of the door, swinging on rusted hinges. She thinks it might have been a mistake, so she trudges over there, taking off her gloves and shoving them in a back pocket as she goes, ready to lock it properly shut. 

But then she sees, through the gaps in the wood door. Someone’s inside. 

She recognises them shortly after that. 

It’s Ruby, crouched in a corner of stuff. There’s a few boxes stacked over there, labelled with random things. People collect  _ stuff  _ over the years, and her mom’s always been the quietly sentimental type. 

"Kid, what is it?" 

"You never told me your dad was a police officer too," 

"What? Where'd you hear about-" 

She looks sheepish, as she stands up she hands the burnished metal to Alex without another word. 

Her hand shakes when she turns it over. It catches the light, scratches along the face of it. She doesn’t have to turn it, she knows what it is. She’s seen it many times before. 

She has a badge like this. 

"Where'd you find this?" 

"In that box," Ruby points to what she’d been looking at. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, uneasy. "Eliza said there was a soccer ball in here-" 

"If there is, it'll be flat by now. We haven't played any ball games in years," Alex says, tucking the old badge into her pocket. Ruby looks a little put out by that. 

"Oh," 

"Go back inside, I'll meet you there in a moment," 

She does. It seems like the kid can’t wait to get away from her. 

She doesn’t blame her. She’d be nervous too, if she was faced with herself right now. 

The box is unmarked. She heads towards it with a singleminded focus. There’s a layer of dust over most things in here, but this has been recently disturbed, flecks float trapped in a sunbeam that spears through the gaps in old wood. 

An old camera rests against the floor of the barn, lens shattered. There’s some folders in this box, a few other random things that she’s about to go through when she’s startled out of her thoughts by a voice. 

“What is that?” Ruby points at the handle of something, wedged in against the side of the box. 

“Shit- you’re still in here?” She winces at her own language, but Ruby doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it. 

“I mean, I wanna see,” 

“Ruby...” Alex groans, but the kid crouches down beside her and really, she can’t say no to that face. “Fine. Just-  _ don’t  _ touch anything,” 

“Can I see the camera?” 

She doesn’t see why not. It’s broken anyways. “Sure,” She picks it up, and hands it to Ruby, while she goes through the box. It’ll probably keep the kid busy for a little while. 

There are a few things that don’t seem to be of too much importance. A locker key, on a rusted loop of metal, along with a bottle opener keychain. Some loose papers, receipts that are so faded they’re barely legible. Alex realises what it is when she sees the old address book. This was probably what her father used to keep in his desk at work. 

“Why doesn’t this have a screen?” Ruby asks, holding the camera out in front of Alex. 

“Cause you’d have to look through the viewfinder, at the top.” Alex gently guides Ruby and the camera off to the side, and after she does that, Ruby places the camera up to her eye, and peers through the tiny window of glass up the top. 

“Oh, and then you-“  _ Click.  _

They’re both stunned when the flash goes off, Ruby having taken a picture. There’s life in this somehow, however many years after it was last used. 

“How am I meant to see the photo?” 

_ Wait a second.  _

It took a photo. 

There might be- “Give me that,” 

Ruby does, and Alex turns it over in her hands, fingers going for the back of it. She pops open the back cover, Ruby making a little sound of protest. 

“You  _ broke  _ it,” 

“I didn’t break it,” Alex rolls her eyes, excitement building as she notices what she was looking for. She takes out the roll of film, and pulls the end of it, lifting it to the light so she can have a look. 

And- yes, sure enough, there’s her own face, albeit a bit blurry and out of focus, in negative through the brown coloured film. And the next photos, she can see the distinct outlines of trees... 

“Woah,” Ruby gasps, leaning in close next to Alex to look at the negative. “It’s like, inverted,” 

Alex quickly rolls up the film, clicking it back into the camera. She needs to get these developed. She turns the camera over again, staring at the cracked lens. What secrets does this little thing hold? 

Ruby is back to being interested in the box. She picks up a faded red strip of fabric, it turns out to be connected to something, and as she pulls, another little cloud of dust puffs up from the papers. It’s a compass, the needle wobbles as she holds it in her hand, and she shows Alex with another look of quiet amazement. 

But a compass must mean there’s a map. There’s gotta be a map. She rifles through the papers, pulling them out now, placing them all around, but then- 

_ Missing Person: Julia Freeman _ . 

The Freemans. 

The pieces start to fit together, they start to make sense- 

Mrs Freeman knows. 

She  _ knows _ . That’s why she hasn’t been looking for her daughter, hasn’t said anything to close that cold case. She knows what happened to her daughter. 

She finds old reports, and flicks through them. Some of them are useless. A stolen car report. Someone filing a noise complaint. 

Ruby gets bored of the constant rifling through paper, and she crosses her legs, sitting next to her, playing with the compass. Tilting it either side, to watch the needle point to North each time. 

Alex has what she needs though. She needs to talk to Mrs Freeman. She needs to go with Sam, to find out about her mother. She needs to get those photos developed. 

-

Sam is waiting for things to change, for the novelty of their visit to wear off. It does, just a bit. Eliza's attention is elsewhere for a little while. Ruby settles in, much to Sam's dismay, her manners go out the window and she's nearly hanging upside down from the couch, her tablet plastered right in front of her face, headphones off, drowning out the world. 

She raises an eyebrow at her, hoping it'll remind her to be a bit more gracious, but she gets a confused look in response. 

Dinner is a casual affair. Eliza and Alex don't talk much to each other, that's something Sam notes. It's not an unpleasant silence though, not like the tense silences she'd have with Patricia. They seem to be content with just being in each other's presence. It's strange, but not bad. 

Sam looks at her own kid. She's been talking about the physics involved in 'bending' the ball to get it to hit the top corner. It's the trick she's been talking about non stop since she's watched  _ Bend it Like Beckham _ , and she's latched onto it like a fish on a hook. She's probably still going to be talking about it two months later, because soccer season is on its' way out and she'll be processing whatever the result of their final is. 

Surprisingly, Alex understands what she's talking about. 

"See, the thing is you've got the force that you're applying to the object, and then the spin of the object-" she gets some of the vegetables on her fork as she speaks, as if to demonstrate, but her brow furrows as she thinks, and she gives Ruby a sheepish smile. "I only know the basics of this, really. I didn't do a lot of physics in college," 

"You're like a genius. Like an einstein level genius. But you're also a super cool cop. You're like,  _ everything,"  _

"I'm not, really," She says sheepishly. 

It's funny, really, Ruby's eyes are wide, and if Sam looked really close, she could probably see those big cartoon style stars spinning in her pupils right now as she looks up at Alex. 

Alex has the fork halfway to her mouth, but she glances up when she feels Sam's eyes on her. The smile she gives makes her eyes crinkle around the corners, and  _ oh-  _ Sam's heart squeezes tight in her chest at the little smile on the corner of her mouth. 

Then Ruby's loud sound of complaint cuts through the moment like an airhorn in the middle of a ballet recital. 

"Inside voice, Ruby!" 

"Sorry. Did I interrupt your moment? I was asking you a question," 

" _ Ruby!- _ " it's like a bucket of ice water has been thrown over her. She's quick to look at Eliza, but she doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. 

Ruby spears a stack of vegetables on her fork, places it into her mouth with exaggerated slowness, and gives Sam a smug smile with all the air of someone who knows that no consequences can be dealt out without making a scene. 

Sam narrows her eyes. Ruby’s never been like this. She’s about to comment on this sudden shift in behaviour, 

But then Eliza speaks. 

"If you want to learn more about it, search the Magnus effect. They'll be some explanations of the forces involved. Alex I can't believe you didn't recall that. How many years has it been since you've been in college?" 

"It's been a while, because didn't finish my degree." Alex says with a roll of her eyes. She gives a huff. Sam can tell- this is an old discussion. "I decided to become a cop," she explains, for Sam's benefit. 

She's curious as to what her degree was. She doesn't know much about Alex's college years, and she's curious now. 

"But you would have made an excellent doctor," 

"You were going to be a  _ doctor? _ " Sam can't help the surprise from seeping into her voice. 

"MD and bioengineering," Alex gives her a little shug, a small smile. Wow, this woman-

"That explains how you-..." Sam starts, but promptly trails off as Alex's eyebrows raise and she glances at Eliza. 

Right. 

Probably not best to bring up the wolf in the room. 

"... how... you... helped me with my sleepwalking!" 

Shit. Has that made it better, or worse? Sam glances over at Alex, but she's pointedly looking away, resting a hand on her forehead. 

Ruby is taken aback. "Wait, that's gone? You fixed it?" 

Sam gives a pained smile to Ruby. "Yep! All gone now!" 

"Cool! I knew you were the best. You're a doctor policewoman." Ruby pauses as an idea hits her, and her jaw drops. "A  _ coptor _ ! No wait that's lame it sounds like helicopter," 

Both Arias women are oblivious to the silent conversation going on between Eliza and Alex. 

A slight tilt of her chin, and an arched eyebrow in response to the _solved_ _sleepwalking_. 

Alex gives her a stern glare and a sharp shake of her head. It's not what she thinks. 

Eliza studies Sam from the corner of her eye for one long moment, then looks at Alex, her lips drawn into a hard line. She gives another tilt of her chin, with a raised shoulder, as if to say  _ 'go figures'.  _ What does that mean? She thinks Sam's out of her league? What? Alex would agree, but also  _ ouch _ . Or does she mean that Alex should have taken the opportunity to- well no, that wouldn’t make sense. 

She makes sure to gesture as much that she doesn't understand what she's implying with her eyes alone. Eliza doesn't respond. That means she's going to catch her alone to talk later-  _ damn.  _

A few hours later, Ruby's getting settled to go to sleep. 

"Hey mom?" 

"What's up buttercup?" 

"... I like it here," 

"In Alex's old room?" 

"No I mean, here. I like Eliza. She said she'll teach me how to play piano whenever I want and-" Ruby pauses to take a breath. "I like... I have friends now. And I like your girlfriend too. She makes you happy," 

"Rubes, we're not-... we're just friends," 

"Oh you're more than that. You just can't see it cause you're all blergh," She sticks out a tongue, and a bit of that earlier snark comes back in full force. 

" _ Excuse me?"  _

"But that's okay. Alex likes you anyways, even if you're a moron. I've seen you around her! You're always just like-" 

"Hey! I've noticed by the way-" Ruby continues to make silly noises, with her tongue stuck out, and she almost doesn’t notice Sam until she raises her voice. "Stop, I've  _ noticed  _ that you've been developing a bit of an attitude. Where's that from?" 

The raise in voice never ceases to get her to at least falter. It works this time, and she huffs, "I don't have an attitude! I'm an Arias. I have  _ character _ ," 

"Ruby," 

She changes tone, as Ruby’s bravado starts to fade. That response was snappy, but Ruby doesn’t meet her eyes now. Maybe this is jealousy? Now that Sam has been hanging with Alex... 

“You’re always my best girl. I’m not mad at you for having an attitude I’m just wondering why you feel the need to-“ 

"Why did you leave me?!" There it is. She's used to Ruby's wild mood swings, but this gives her serious whiplash. The silence that follows hits with a solid weight, and Ruby's eyes fill with tears as she shrinks into herself. 

“I didn’t-“ she doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do other than pull Ruby in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she soaks her loaned shirt. “I didn’t mean to, baby.” 

“I thought you- I thought I did something wrong. I thought it was because I didn’t want to stay with you on Halloween,” her breaths are coming fast, and she shakes her head, words skipping with every breath and Sam’s chest aches. 

“No, Rubes,  _ no.  _ Never. It wasn’t- I wouldn’t  _ leave  _ you for something like that,” 

“But you were gone. I got home and you were gone. And it felt like you did,” Ruby says, and Sam backs up, cupping her face in between her hands so she can look at her. 

Ruby’s eyes are red, and there are big tears falling from her eyes, and she’s so  _ small  _ and this makes Sam’s eyes want to follow. 

“I’d never leave you. Ever, okay? I’m here for you. Always,” 

“Pinky promise?” she holds out a hand, just a little smaller than her own, with so much sincerity that Sam can’t do anything but take it seriously. 

“I pinky promise,” she says, linking their little fingers. “Make it double. Make it  _ triple,”  _

That brings a smile to Ruby’s face. “You don’t have three hands,” but it fades again as she looks up at Sam. “Was it the sleepwalking, mom?” 

“It was the sleepwalking. But you know what? I’m on it now. I know why I’m sleepwalking,” 

“So you fixed it then?”

“It’s... I need to know still for sure, but knowing what’s causing it helps a lot. It also brings a lot of questions, so I’m going to be trying some stuff out for a while, to see if there’s a way to make things better for good. And I’m going to see Patricia tomorrow, to see if she knows anything,” 

“So I can stay here?” 

“I’m sorry for dinner,” 

“You don’t have to be sorry.  _ I’m  _ sorry,” 

“I don’t like Patricia,”

“I know you don’t,” 

“You’re going by yourself and last time you went-“ 

“I’m not going by myself. Alex is coming with me. It’ll be a few days, maybe three days, but then I’ll be back. Are you okay to stay with Eliza?” 

“I can stay here? Yeah! I wanna stay here forever,” 

“No, not- I didn’t mean forever,” 

“Why not?” 

“Cause it’s not our house, and also, cause I said we can’t. We don’t want to impose. You’ll be here for two or three more days, and once we move back at home, you’ve got your games and all your clothes and your TV...” 

“Okay... you make a solid argument,” 

-

Sam stands in the hallway. Ruby’s going to sleep soon, she’s decided that she wants to play some more piano before bed, while she still can. 

The soft sounds come through the walls, the  _ clinks  _ and  _ clanks  _ of discordant piano playing. 

But there’s a tune there. 

Sam wonders when that happened. She’s only missed a single day and already-

She’s lost in thought, so lost that the touch on her shoulder nearly sends her jumping out of her skin. 

"Sorry," Alex steps back, and the space she vacates leaves her skin feeling cold. Her voice is still light though, she isn't hurt by it. "Better get ready for bed, huh?" 

When Sam turns to look at her, Alex's eyes are guarded. She only gets a glance before the other woman is tossing her a shirt and a pair of old worn trackpants. 

"If you need something to sleep in. I'll go change in the bathroom," 

"Thank you," Sam says, voice soft, and before Alex can run away, she captures her by the hand. "Can you-... stay with me tonight?" 

Alex gives her a nod. "Of course," 

So she goes to Alex’s room, leaving the guest room for Ruby. 

The bed sheets are clean, they smell fresh, but the bed itself seems to smell like it's been untouched for a while. Like dust, and still air. But the blankets,  _ oh _ the blankets, when she wraps herself in them they smell good. 

She wrinkles her nose. This is weird. Her nose hasn't always been this sensitive, has it? Or is she just noticing things more now that she's... ahem...  _ solved  _ the mystery of her  _ sleepwalking _ . Could it even be called sleepwalking, when she does it on four legs? Is that then sleep- _ crawling? _

She's never going to get  _ any  _ sleep if she thinks down that path. 

She settles into a more appropriate position for sleep, and switches off the light. It takes a bit of shuffling. The springs creak, and she can't quite get her shoulder in the right place. 

It feels like that one time, when she'd decided a coffee at eight PM would be a good idea. She's filled with restless energy that hums under her skin, with no outlet. 

The door opens quietly. Alex steps inside, very conscious of the fact that Sam isn't asleep. Her breaths are shallow, she’s just closed her eyes. 

The hectic nature of the past couple of days must be catching up with her now. Finally taking a toll. As Alex lays her head down on her own pillow, the angle of it all changes, and she can see the way the highlights in Sam’s hair almost look silvery-white in the bright moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains. 

Moonlight. 

The moon must still be quite full for it to be this strong, and a few thoughts form in her mind as she listens to Sam’s gentle breathing. That this may not be a coincidence, that Sam disappears on the night of the full moon, on Halloween. There are lot of things to say about wolves and full moons. 

But this wouldn’t make sense, because she’s almost certain that Sam would have noticed something like this in the city.  _ Ruby  _ would have noticed. Plenty of people would have noticed a wolf running about in the streets. 

She thinks and she thinks and her mind wanders and nothing is solved but her mind keeps churning away until sleep drags her under.

Sam feels it all. Alex gets into bed. She moves about. She falls asleep. 

Sam turns, being extra careful to make sure she doesn't rustle the sheets too much. She opens an eye, and finds that she's lying there, facing her, her eyes closed, a hand tucked under her head. 

She can see her breathing, as well as hear it. The gentle rise and fall of her chest. She tries to match her breaths to Alex's, to copy her sleep as she closes her eyes. 

Inhale, exhale. 

What if she becomes the wolf again? 

Inhale, exhale. 

What if she snaps, and hurts someone? 

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. 

What if  _ she's  _ the reason why those people disappeared? 

Inhale- 

Alex continues to breathe steady, taken already by sleep. 

Sam is frozen in place. Her eyes shoot open, and she turns to face away from Alex. 

She reads the spine of every book on Alex's shelf. There's a good mix, the kind of mix that a person collects when they're younger and expected to learn a bit of everything. An anthology of Shakespeare's works, still filled with post it notes, stands squat in the shelf next to a few thinner novels of varying interest, paperbacks with pale lines in the spine. Then there's big stuff, textbooks, strewn about the place. The tops of pages are covered in that soft film of dust as well. It's like they've been frozen in time. It feels like getting a glimpse into Alex's teenage years. 

There's a photo on her side table as well. It's a family photo, there's a man in the frame, a wide friendly smile on his face, one hand on Alex's shoulder, the other around a younger girl, with glasses too big for her face, and blonde hair tied into a messy ponytail. She's the antithesis of Alex, where Alex has straight shoulder-length dark hair, a scowl that probably could have melted the photographer. Eliza stands next to the man. She has a thin smile on her face, but somehow it seems genuine. 

Sam can see the resemblance. She has the same look in her eyes that Alex does, except she's doing her best to mask it behind a smile. 

This isn't helping her sleep. She only has more questions now. She can't stop that thought from coming back. 

She tries to push them away and they grow, and then she's tired, so she rests her head properly. She's in the middle of this bed. She should sleep. She should let herself sleep. Nothing will happen here. She's safe, she's fine. 

Things will be okay, eventually. They’ll figure things out. They have to— because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if they can’t. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone still out there?
> 
> tune in next time for a road trip i guess? thanks for reading :P also keep commenting cause the validation gives me life and fuel to write more


	11. run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> road trip stuff  
> someone gets candy  
> there's soft gays  
> there's angsty gays   
> there's one bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're not running away from their problems, no, of course not! they're facing them head on. they just happen to be... more than a day's drive away... so in the meantime-  
> enjoy the chapter :P

In the morning, Sam wakes up feeling unusually well-rested. 

A pair of strong arms rest, wrapped around her waist. Alex’s chest rises and falls, her gentle breaths stirring her hair. 

As her eyes open, and her body slowly comes back to reality, she feels a new, unfamiliar kind of restedness. The morning sun bathes the room in a gentle yellow glow, and with it the slightly open window lets in the sounds and smells of the ocean at dawn, crashing against the craggy cliffs near the beach. 

If she closes her eyes, and leans into Alex’s arms a little more, trying to draw herself back into the land of the dreaming well, she can’t be blamed for that. She’s had too many uncomfortable nights in a cold, lonely bed, listening to the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. 

_ This,  _ in comparison, is the stuff that people make meditation soundtracks out of, but they’d never be quite able to get the feel of the sun on her face and the salt on the air, they wouldn’t be able to get the overall feeling of  _ comfort  _ into a ten-minute track. 

She hears a quiet change in Alex’s breathing. 

“Sorry-“ and she’s moving back so Sam has to think quick. Her hand slides along Alex’s arm before she can fully retract it, she captures her arm and pulls her in. It might be a little more forceful than she intends, but she doesn’t want her to leave. 

“Don’t go,” 

Alex huffs out a quiet laugh, and her hand presses against Sam’s abdomen, pulling her in, but it’s only for a brief moment, a small hug until she starts to stir properly, sitting up. 

Sam rolls onto her back to face her and-  _ oh _ . 

Alex is always beautiful, but in the morning she takes on a softness that Sam has never seen before. In the soft flush on her cheeks, in the way brown eyes catch the morning light. 

She wishes she could always get to see her like this. 

“I need to go to the bathroom. Then we need to talk about things,” And her  _ voice _ . Husky with sleep, it warms Sam’s chest even more. 

“Things?” Sam asks, and Alex runs a hand through her hair. 

“I think we found the cause of your sleepwalking yesterday,” 

Sam pauses in her daydreaming, and doubt settles in like a visible cloud. Then concern.  _ Fear.  _ Dread.  It’s not a spiral, but it’s damn well close to one, and she barely manages to ask- 

“Did I- did I sleepwalk aga-“ she draws herself up into a sitting position, and Alex is there, resting a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. 

But Alex knows. she’s immediately responding. A hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tight. A smile, one that makes brown eyes glitter. “No, you couldn’t have, not with the way we were sleeping,” 

Sam can’t take the teasing, not with the knot in her stomach.  

-

It’s only around six when they wake up. Ruby sleeps in, but the soft patter of rain on the roof seem to wake her up around nine. Alex has already been up and out for a jog. Sam would have followed, but she’s not sure she wants to weather the cold morning air in Alex’s borrowed sweats. 

This house is quieter than theirs ever is. There aren’t any morning cartoons blasting through the kitchen, there’s no radio, no hustle and bustle of cars leaving to try and beat National City’s morning traffic. 

Eliza hums to herself. It’s a tune that Sam can vaguely recognise, something by the Carpenters. She’s making tea, and the steam from the cup dances and curls as it reaches up. 

It’s quiet and still and oh so peaceful, but there’s a storm on the horizon — Ruby’s footsteps loud like thunder upstairs as she trudges to the bathroom. 

Sam’s cup is empty, but she doesn’t want to impose by asking for another cup of tea. The cup still holds some residual warmth as she wraps her hands around it, but it feels light without any liquid in it. 

The chair creaks as Eliza sits down across from her. Sam looks up, and is quite startled to find the other woman watching her, an unreadable expression in her eyes. 

“Has Alex left already?” 

“I think she just- she said she was going for a run before we go,” Sam explains, and Eliza stares back, unbothered by the information. 

“Before  _ you  _ go?” And her eyes narrow just a bit, not out of any sort of malice, but confusion. 

“Oh, Alex didn’t-“ she resists the urge to wince at her slip up, instead she plucks at a thread on her sleeve, leaving her cup in front of her on the table. “I’m- we’re going to visit my mom. I need to ask her about my family history. Because of the sleepwalking thing,” 

"Alex told me about that,” Eliza says after a prolonged pause, as if she didn’t just scare the shit out of Sam with that question. 

They sit in stiff silence, at least on Sam’s end. 

Eliza has the air of a mother about her, and not Sam’s brand of chaotic make-it-up-as-you-go motherhood, but she’s got that quiet wisdom, that stability. She’s a stone, unmoving, unflinching, and Sam feels like a leaf, clinging by a tiny stem on the branch of a tree. 

“You don’t have to be worried around me. I don’t know what Alex told you, but I don’t bite,” 

“I’m sorry, ma’am-  _ Eliza.  _ Old habits,” 

It’s because of her and her stupid mind jumping ahead of things. It just feels like meeting a date’s parents again, and she hasn’t done that in  _ years.  _ She’s out of practice, more than a little rusty, her movements feel clunky and awkward, her words stilted from overthinking. She can’t  _ help  _ it though, cause this is Eliza. Alex’s mom. 

“I’m going to visit Patricia. That’s why I’m asking you first, if you want to come,” Sam tells Ruby later, and she feels awful for killing her energy so soon after she wakes like this. 

"... I don't like her. Why are you going there?"

"I need to ask her some questions."

"You're coming  back though, right?"

Sam nods. "I'm just going for three days. Four days, tops. I'll be back before you know it. You won't even notice I'm gone,"

"I will. I always miss you when you're not around," it’s a quiet admission, one that she almost doesn’t catch, Ruby mutters it under her breath, and it nearly breaks Sam’s heart in two. 

But she smiles even though she can feel that lump in her throat, those tears welling in her eyes. It was only a day. This will only be a few. she pulls Ruby into a hug, just in case those tears try to escape. 

"Well then why do you go on so many sleepovers, huh?" 

“Because I miss my friends when  _ they’re  _ not around too.” Ruby mumbles into her hair, and Sam has to laugh at that, bringing Ruby back to see her face properly. 

She’s old enough now to talk back. She’s old enough to make her own opinions, to fold her clothes herself, to keep her room clean, to do basic trigonometry. But she hasn’t grown out of needing her mom, and that’s a relief to Sam. She has a tight-lipped smile that makes her cheeks look even rounder, makes her look even smaller. 

"Gosh I don't want you to ever grow up. Promise me you'll never grow up," 

Ruby scowls, that was obviously the wrong thing to say. "I wanna grow up so I can play in the World Cup." 

"Okay. But then after that you have to go back to being my little baby," She cups Ruby’s face with both her hands, and she laughs as Ruby squirms. 

"Mo-o-o-o-o-o-m. Not in front of Alex, you're embarrassing me," 

"Alex isn't-" She starts, but then looks up. 

She's there in the doorway, hands on her hips like she doesn't quite know what to do with them, and she's chuckling quietly to herself as Ruby continues to strain against her to try and break free. Her hair is still wet, messily slicked back on her head, but she seems to have gotten a change of clothes. 

Sam grins, and of course, she has to embarrass her daughter even more, getting her into a headlock and deliberately messing up her already messy hair. "Since when did you get so  _ strong  _ mom? Lemme go! You're making me look uncool," 

She wriggles free after that, and scatters off as Alex's chuckles turn to full laughs. 

But then the tides are turned, and Ruby runs over to Alex, tossing her arms around her waist, nearly knocking her back. 

It's genuine surprise, she's startled, her hands fly up, and Sam is about to call Ruby off her, because while Alex isn't as frigid as some people around town make her seem, she doesn't seem to be much of a hugger around other people. 

But then she melts, and wraps her arms around Ruby in return, and there's a look in her eye that says that while Alex doesn't get that many hugs, it doesn't mean she doesn't like them. 

She rests a hand on the top of Ruby’s head, then tilts her head back so she can get her attention from the hug. 

"Can you take care of my mom while we’re gone? She doesn't say it, but she gets a little lonely around here. All her kids are grown up, you know, and my sister never comes around to visit," Alex asks. 

"Your sister? Is she that blonde girl in all the pictures?" 

It's barely a flinch in her expression, Alex masks it well, but there's that tension again, tension between Alex and her sister that she seems to not want to talk about. She doesn't let Ruby know, she gives her a soft smile, and nods. "Yeah. So you gotta make sure my mom doesn't get lonely when I'm gone," 

"Okay. I can do that. You can count on me,” Her little girl stands up tall, and takes her words so seriously, it fills Sam with an all-encompassing sense of pride, and she already starts to miss her. 

—

They figure out the direction they’re going to head in, and the address of a motel where they'll stop for the night. Alex will drive Sam's car for the first part. It's been agreed upon, she knows she can trust Alex with her baby, after she did an okay job looking after her  _ other  _ baby for a little while. 

She's at home, but only for a short time, just to pick up a few clothes, things she'll need for Patricia's. She dropped Alex off on the way, the woman saying that she'd rather have a few fresh clothes for a day-and-a-half on the road. 

She didn't have to drive far alone. Just from Alex's to her own house. It wasn't far at all, she'd be able to drive to Patricia's without issue, but Alex's offer is a hell of a lot more attractive than sitting behind the wheel, counting white lines till she reaches town. And she's not sure about this  _ wolf _ thing. If those strange little moments of blankness might come back into her days now. Cause they had to be caused by...  _ it.  _ If that was why she was sleepwalking, it'd explain the rest of the strange occurrences in the city. 

She remembers Lena's little jokes. Those were the first things she heard, and she didn't quite understand them till later, they didn't hurt until afterwards, when she realised something was going on. They weren't intended to be mean, it was just... little things.  _ "Anyone home, Arias?"  _ or a gentle tap on the side of her head with a finger. It was her making jokes about Sam taking breaks on company time, when she'd  _ never  _ do that, and she hated when other people would hear, and look at her, when it wasn't true- 

Except she was, kind of. She'd be absently staring out a window, not realise she'd taken half an hour to do so until her feet would start to hurt and she'd get a glance at the clock when she turned to head back to her desk. Or it would be things like Ruby coming home from school or soccer practice way earlier than she'd assume. And then it became more apparent, during conversations, while cooking dinner... 

She's sitting on the bonnet of her car when she hears the sound of Alex's return. She cuts an impressive shape on that bike, all dark leather and tight jeans, without a care for the fact it's early in the morning as her engine growls around the corner before coming to a steady stop in the drive. 

The helmet comes off, and she shakes out her hair, it falls nearly perfectly into place as she swings herself off the bike, grabbing a duffle bag that Sam hadn't noticed during her- ahem,  _ admiration  _ of Alex's figure, and she hoists it over one shoulder as she walks up to Sam, a flush to her cheeks, gently tousled hair, and the slightest of smirks. 

Sam knows there's a reality where Alex saunters up to her, and like a suave bad boy in an old movie, she drops that bag and puts her hands on Sam's hips, drawing her to the front of the bonnet and finding her place between her waiting legs, Sam would cup her chiseled jaw with both hands, leaning down to kiss those lips-

But this is not that universe. Alex does slap at her thigh with one hand as she passes, probably a bit harder than she realises. It startles Sam right out of her daydream, as does her teasing voice as she calls out-

"I don’t know if I’m ready to be in a car with you for this long,” 

“I hope you like old music and terrible singing, cause that's what you're going to get," Sam calls back. 

She smiles as she tosses a duffle bag into the trunk, before circling around to the front. Sam follows, and she's amazed at how something so simple already makes her feel so...  _ light.  _ She gets into the passenger seat, and just catches Alex sigh as she opens the other door. "Oh boy. Is it too late to back out now?" 

"Too late," she sing-songs, but her chipper mood quickly fades as she glances at Alex, unsure. She slides in, hand resting on the wheel as she closes the door, and Sam can't quite read her face with that curtain of dark red hair across her face like that. 

"Unless of course you don’t-" 

_ Clack _ , and Alex leans back into her seat, one eyebrow raised and a tight lipped smile on her face as if challenging Sam to get rid of her. 

Sam can't help but smile back in return. 

 

It’s strange, being a passenger in her own car. She’s not used to it, sitting in Ruby’s seat, she has to adjust it so she can have enough leg room, but as soon as she does, she finds that she likes it here. 

She stares out the passenger side window, trees flicker by, too fast and too similar for her to really notice much, except for that there are a lot of them. 

Alex drives like she rides, the same quiet confidence, she’s at home here as she is anywhere else, and Sam’s unusually calm, she trusts her. 

Trust. 

She’s never really acknowledged how much trust she’s placed in Alex until now. She’s leaving Ruby with Alex’s mom. She’s trusting Alex to take her to Patricia. 

She’s trusting Alex to help her fix this, and while the rational part of her questions exactly  _ how much  _ trust she’s placing in Alex, the rest of her can’t help but be relieved. 

She’s not facing this alone. 

Alex can’t help but steal glances at Sam from the corner of her eye. Every time she looks at her, she wants to see if she can catch a glimpse of her true nature in the way she carries herself. 

Sam’s dressed for the occasion. A warm flannel, the sleeves of it rolled up to her elbows, that big watch resting loose on her wrist. The bone-white fur is so detached from the soft chestnut brown of her hair, the animal amber eyes are so different from the warm honey-brown of Sam’s. Sam smiles when she notices her staring, and it’s without any hint of malice, something so soft and gentle that she almost forgets that this was the same woman she had in her arms, broken and crying so early in the morning. 

It’ll take them a day and a bit, with a break in between for lunch, and an overnight stop-over. 

It doesn’t seem to be bothering Sam, as much as it’s bothering Alex. She’d think that maybe, that she’s just naive, that it hasn’t quite occurred to her yet — Sam looking to be some sort of werewolf, and they’re staying in an unfamiliar place  _ overnight.  _

Sam isn’t bothered by it though. She took the idea of an overnight stopover in stride, so maybe Alex really is overthinking things. She can’t really draw a connection between lunar cycles and the previous sightings off the top of her head. It might be something she looks into later. Sam also didn’t turn last night. There was no transformation under the light of the silver moon, Alex was sure she’d have noticed her bedmate growing a tail and a set of sharp teeth. 

They pass forest, then fields, until they officially leave town and there’s nothing really but the curving highway, the trees, the mountain range continuing like ripples in the surface of the land, every so often they can get a glimpse of the ocean on the other side, until they can’t anymore. 

They're well and truly out of Midvale when the silence gets to Alex a bit. There's nothing around them but sky and plains, arid farmland spotted here or there. They pass a truck, a few other cars. The highway starts to narrow, and Sam still sits, straight-backed and bristling with a restless energy now. 

It doesn't take a genius to know that Sam's getting more nervous as they go further along in this tense and kind of awkward silence.  

It's after the road narrows again, from two lanes either side to just the one, that Alex decides it'd be good to pop Sam's tense little bubble. 

“You’re thinking too loud,” 

“I’m... waiting for you to put some music on,” Sam comes up with a quick excuse, and Alex seems to buy it. They’d turned the radio off, since as soon as they left town, it was basically dead. 

Sam’s fingers are gentle on the dial, turning for a while, filling the cabin with static. There’s nothing here, just like there’s nothing on either side of them. It’s like they’ve driven into nowhere, passing through the landscape grows drier, and Alex can’t see the sea, and she wonders where it’s gone, as there’s only static until Sam finds an old CD after rifling through the glove box. 

As soon as the music starts, a bit of life enters Sam again. Alex can see, glancing in the corner of her eye, how a little bit of that tension melts from Sam's shoulders as the start of an old song, one that she's sure she's heard Eliza singing along to once or twice, comes through the speakers. 

“You like this kinda music?” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, and her smile grows to that full-on grin, the type where her teeth show and she closes her eyes. 

It’s this...  _ weakness  _ that’ll get her hurt one day, she knows it. Sam isn’t all that she seems, and she  _ knows  _ this, but it feels like she constantly has to remind herself of that. It’s too easy to fall for the smiles and the softness and the warmth.

Sam starts humming along to the stereo, with her eyes closed as she leans back against the headrest, forgetting for a moment the chaos and the worries... 

It’s like they’re just two people, out to find themselves, to find  _ each other _ . 

They’ve been driving long enough for Alex’s body to start feeling it. Her hands start feeling stiff on the wheel, she’s not used to driving for this long, sitting like this. 

She doesn’t want to really give her discomfort away. This isn’t about her, this is about getting answers. For Sam, really. 

It's better now, at least, with Sam's voice, not always in tune, but with enough energy to see it through. 

She lets Sam have her little solo moment for a few songs, she's content enough to just bob her head along, drumming her fingers in time on the wheel, until she hears something so familiar, it seems to kickstart something ridiculous inside her. 

She grins. And then that bubbles into a laugh, as her hand blindly flies to the console, to bump the volume up. The beat starts to  _ I Want to Break Free _ , punctuated with that guitar, and Sam's full body laugh nearly shakes the car with how enthusiastic it is, she throws her arms up and her limbs flail about just a bit, jumping up as much as she can with her seatbelt on. 

They both look at each other. They know what has to happen now. Alex isn't going to back away from this. 

"I want to break free," 

" _ Yes!"  _

"I want to break free-" 

They both follow in on the next line, Sam adding an exaggerated amount of emphasis to the next line, like she's performing in a stadium and not in the faded leather seat of her Caddilac. 

It’s good goings, it’s honest fun, it’s driving down the highway, bordering on speeding since the road’s just a straight line heading into the middle of nowhere, there’s nothing behind them and nothing in front, nobody around but them and the street signs and the road and the music. 

And they get through the first bit and the chorus and Sam holds up an invisible microphone, singing into it with a passion that makes Alex laugh so hard she nearly snorts, and the car wavers a little as her hands move from the wheel. 

But then the next line starts, and she shouldn’t sing it out loud but it’s in the song, and she sneaks a glance at Sam and- 

Sam’s looking right at her, and Alex sings it out, but it’s barely a whisper. 

"I've fallen in  _ love,"  _ A smile blossoms on Sam’s face, and Alex looks back at the road, just as Sam sings the next line along with her,

"I've fallen in love for the first time-" 

"This time I know it's for real," And isn’t that a line that hits right down deep in her chest, that resonates in a way that almost contradicts that upbeat tune, and she’s smiling with Sam as they sing, smiles till her face hurts, smiling till she’s filled up with that bright energy, so much of it that she’s about to burst. 

“I’ve fallen in love,” 

It doesn't matter, right? If they've both said it now, in Sam’s car. It was in the song, but at least it’s out there. 

“God knows, god knows I’ve fallen in love,” 

Alex drums her hands on the wheel, and they keep singing. 

Sam does the best air guitar Alex has ever seen — or maybe she’s just biased, cause when Sam nods up and down like that, her hair falls across her face in a way that makes Alex’s heart beat faster. 

They keep singing. Taking turns, finding ways to fill the time, until Alex nearly misses the turn for the highway they’re meant to actually be on. 

She curses, and Sam bursts out laughing, and it’s carefree and light even as Alex quickly corrects course, bringing herself into line without too much hassle, but with a lot of stress to her already strained heart, which races in her chest as they continue on down this fork in the road, and Sam turns to look at her. 

“You’re a bad singer,  _ and  _ a bad driver,” she says, and Alex immediately goes on the defensive. 

“I’m actually a great singer. Freddie’s just a tough guy to beat. Also, you can’t judge, you were  _ howling  _ at the end there,” 

“Hey! You didn’t even harmonise with me, that’s why I sounded bad!” 

“What? Harmonise with  _ that?”  _ Alex scoffs, and Sam leans her head back, still chuckling to herself. “I don’t think my vocal cords have the range,” 

It’s funny how Alex gets her like this. She’s laughing about it, laughing about  _ howling _ , a little jab at her wolfish nature. Alex is glancing at the corner of her eye like she’s still trying to gauge her reaction, but it’s... a positive one. 

She’s okay with it. Sam keeps chuckling even as the song is over, leaning back into her seat a little bit. 

-

They have to take a short break for gas eventually. 

Alex would be offended at the speed in which Sam leaves the car, but she’d been complaining about needing a bathroom break for the past three miles. She isn’t sure if she’s embarrassed for herself or for Sam when she sees that strange need-to-pee bathroom jog she does to the gas station bathroom.

She’s weird. But Alex can’t pretend to hate it, not when she can bring out a smile from her so easy. 

She fills up, and goes off to pay. Sam finds her way back in that time, and Alex is heading out of the sliding doors, back into that strange desert heat that seems to know no season, when she notices her sitting on the car, rather than inside. 

Probably to get some air, Alex thinks. 

Her eyes are closed as she sits on the trunk. She doesn’t seem to notice Alex’s approach. There’s no smile on her face, and that in itself causes Alex to slow down in her step. 

It's like the energy from before, the happiness, the novelty of it all has faded out from Sam, and she's so far in her thoughts, that Alex's soft tap on her shoulder nearly jumps her out of her skin. 

"Hey, you okay?" 

“I’m... I dunno. Just feeling a little drained I guess?” 

"Well, I  _ did  _ get you something from the shop in there so this should help,"  It’s then Sam realises that Alex has been keeping a hand behind her back this entire time. When she brings it forward, she’s holding an orange lollipop, which she twirls between her fingers with a charming smile as she offers it to Sam. 

"You got me a lollipop?" 

"It was forty-five cents and they only had oranges and greens le-" 

"My favourite,” Sam smiles as she unwraps the candy before popping it into her mouth. 

Sam’s going to drive now. Alex tosses the keys towards her, and Sam’s eyes bug out as she scrambles to catch them. 

They get themselves situated, and Alex is already a lot more comfortable in the passenger seat. Not that she doesn’t mind driving — but she’s grateful for the break. 

Sam doesn’t seem to be as relaxed as she is though. She turns to the side, and Sam’s sitting with her back straight, hands gripping the wheel, as she starts the engine stiffly. 

When she reaches for the gearshift, Alex reaches for her hand, resting it on hers. 

"Tomorrow, when we get to Patricia's we'll get some answers, but in the meantime you need to keep your chin up. Enjoy the journey." 

She meets Sam’s eyes, but it doesn’t last. There’s stress in the furrow of her brow, in the way she quickly glances away, putting the car into drive. Alex retracts her hand. 

"I don't know how I can," She mumbles around the candy. She focuses now on pulling out of the gas station, focuses then on the road, like it isn’t dead empty and ruler straight all the way down through the desert plains. 

"Well, what's the alternative, be miserable this entire time?" Alex asks with a chuckle, but apart from a slight movement of the lollipop stick, Sam doesn’t show much of a response "I mean you can be, but that doesn't seem very fun, and the Sam I know seems to like things that are fun," 

She pulls out the candy with an audible sound, using it to gesture at Alex for a moment, her other hand resting atop the wheel. "Everyone likes things that are fun, you're not making a pointed observation about me, that's just a general thing that every person likes," 

"See? Let it never be said that I'm not good with people," Alex teases, and that brings that smile back to Sam’s face. 

"You're great with Ruby," Sam says, her voice getting a little soft.  "I feel like I haven't thanked you enough,"

Alex settles back into the seat a little more, watching the other woman. Sam glances at her, and there’s something intense in her eyes that makes Alex almost feel like she’s on the spot, as Sam’s mind ponders something before she goes back to paying attention to the road. 

What even was that? How is Sam intending on  _ thanking  _ her? She could think of a few ways that she’d like Sam to tha-

She clears her throat, and decidedly stops staring at Sam’s hand on the wheel, at the glistening orange candy, that no doubt has made Sam’s lips sweeter- 

She looks  _ away,  _ at the window, out the window, clears her throat  _ again-  _

An excuse pops up in her mind, and Alex tries to play things off as casual. “Well, you know what? We’ll need a drink. You can buy me a drink later,”  

“We’re driving,” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

“We’ll have enough time to sleep it all off. That motel we're stopping at is near a bar, and I could use a drink or two, and if  _ someone  _ is offering to pay on her lush  _ upper management  _ salary-“ 

"And you say you aren't a golddigger," Sam teases, with a little chuckle before putting the lollipop back into her mouth, and fiddling with the radio. 

-

Lucky for them, there really is a small dive by the motel, and as soon as they get in, Sam's taken by the entire atmosphere of the space, if her smile is any indication. 

They order drinks, and Sam's overtaken by how easy it all is. How  _ natural  _ it feels to walk into this place she's never been to, in a town that she doesn't know the name of, with Alex by her side. 

Maybe she's changed. Or maybe it's the company. 

There's a jukebox, an old timey thing, and a space on the floor just for dancing. There's people dotted about the place but it's not busy at all, Sam's not sure what a regular of this type of place would look like, but these people fit the building, they match the stained wood walls and the low ceilings, the old neon sign and the number plates up on the back wall. 

The bartender comes up to Sam expectantly, and Sam orders. “Whiskey, neat, for the both of us.” Alex doesn’t ask how Sam knows that about her, cause she seems to just have an instinct for this kind of thing. 

So they drink. It's easy. Alex raises her glass to 'upper management salaries', and Sam laughs into her whiskey. It's not good liquor, but it's cheap liquor, and it's what they have right now so they drink, and enjoy. 

They'd talk more but the music right now is loud, Sam's guessing the guy with the handlebar moustache must have queued up all that old American rock. That stays going for a few minutes, until they've just about finished their first drink. 

Then something nicer comes on. A little older, a little softer. Alex isn't really paying much attention to the music, she's watching Sam's reactions to the sounds around her. 

Her face is so expressive, Alex can see when things get  _ too  _ loud. There's a moment where a man laughs and Sam's shoulders twitch, as if she can cover her ears to get away from that. She wants to ask if it's all louder for her than it was before, now that she has a wolf side, but would she be able to tell? What if her senses had always been like this? 

Sam notices that Alex is staring at her, but in a...  _ different  _ way. It makes her a little nervous, and she tries to clear the air between them.“Did I do something wrong?” 

“No it’s just...” Alex ponders something, it's brewing behind her eyes. “You were talking about us not really taking the time to talk, and then I... I guess I realised there’s no time like the present,” 

“Talk about-“ Sam's brow furrows, and she coaxes Alex. to continue. 

“About the things we haven’t told each other. The things we haven’t told anyone.” The glass in front of Sam seems to be incredibly interesting right about now. 

“You know I work in National City,” 

“Yeah. ‘Upper management’. You told me,” she says with a soft laugh, noticing the way Sam takes a heavy sip of her whiskey. “Seems like a little bit of a downgrade, going from that to small-town accountant,” 

“You have no idea,” Sam lets out a short laugh. “I slept with my boss,” 

She’s caught Alex at the wrong time. The whiskey goes down the wrong way, and Alex feels her throat burning like the seventh circle of hell. Her eyes water as she coughs, alleviating little, and she splutters a few more times before finally gasping out - “What?” 

“It wasn’t that which made me leave. That happened years ago. Before she was my boss. Well, I mean we’re coworkers now, sort of. She ranks higher than me still. Which you’d think would be awkward, but I think we’re both over that now,” Sam says, as if she's just talking about the weather, or... something not as dramatic as sleeping with her boss. 

“Give a girl some warning next time. What’s that got to do with-“ 

Sam's obviously enjoying herself at the expense of Alex's throat, if the grin on her face is any indication. “That’s something I’ve never told anyone,” 

“Oh. I thought that was what you were running away from,” 

“I’d never run away from her. She’d hire trained spies to come and kidnap me. I’m just kidding- mostly. Maybe she’d do that. I don’t know! She’s weird. I love her though, she’s my best friend. But we’re better off as friends,  _ so  _ much better. That’s why I like taking things slow, you know?” 

Right. Alex clears her throat. She'd totally remembered that Sam wanted -“Slow,” 

“Yeah, cause I rushed things once, and we turned out not to be good for each other, and I nearly lost my best friend with that. That’s why we don’t tell anyone. Not that there’s anyone really  _ to  _ tell.” Sam laughs again, another light and airy laugh that makes a joke out of something rather bleak if Alex really thinks about it. 

“Oh. Well that makes sense, I guess.” 

She's about to take another sip, but this time Sam nudges her, and she brings her glass back down to the bar before she spills anything. “Well, I showed you mine. Now you show me yours. What’s something you’ve never told anyone?” 

“I...” Alex starts, and Sam's looking at her all eager and expectantly and she feels really bad for letting her down. “I don’t know. I have a very boring life,” she lies. 

Sam sees through it. “Bullshit,” 

Her curt response does have Alex rather surprised. “Excuse me?” 

“Bullshit! You’re a cop, you were a cop in  _ National City _ , you were going to become a doctor, you went to college, there’s gotta be something in there,” Sam cries, poking at her arm until Alex has no excuse but to fold. 

"Fine! I'll tell you something." She sighs, exasperated. Sam leans forward, eyes wide and eager as she listens. "I’ve been arrested,” 

“Wait, but you’re a-“ 

“It was before I became a cop. I had a...  _ phase,  _ in college-“ 

“So did I,” Sam chuckles. “But mine turned out to not be a phase, and I think yours was like, an actual  _ phase  _ phase, and I’m going to stop interrupting you I’m sorry,” She holds her hands up, and gestures for Alex to continue, a spark of interest in her eyes. 

“You’re fine. I used to love to party. And it wasn’t bad, but then when Dad died, I...” then the words don't want to come out. 

She stutters to a stop, and Sam is still looking at her, all wide eyed and excited, and Alex starts to feel like this isn't the kind of conversation that she should have started. This isn't the sort of story Sam would want to hear. 

“Sorry this is more sad than exciting,” 

Sam's smile falters just a bit, and Alex really regrets bringing this up. But she doesn't draw away, or laugh it off. She surprises Alex, resting a gentle hand on her arm. “No, I want to hear it. I want to hear your story. Even if it’s sad. I wanna know about you,”

Alex doubts that she really does, but it's hard to hold that doubt when Sam's looking at her like this. 

“Well, he died. And that was when I started thinking that med school wasn’t for me. Eliza just shut us all out, she was grieving but... it was too much for me, I couldn’t stay around. I made some bad decisions at a party, got thrown into the drunk tank, and I would have probably been done in for a whole range of charges if it wasn’t for J’onn,” 

“Wait. J’onn?“ 

“Yeah. He got me out. He’s my dad’s best friend, and I think he knew that I was just hurting and scared and I wanted to stop  _ feeling  _ all of that for a while. He gave me a second chance. Without him, I’d probably be in prison. I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, I didn’t really do anything  _ that  _ bad, but I resisted arrest, and that wouldn’t have looked good in court.” 

“Wow,” 

Alex tears her eyes away, stares at the bottom of her glass, swirling the liquid around. “Yeah. So that’s... that story. Something that nobody really knows. He never told my mom, not that she would have really cared,” 

“Hey, no. Your mom’s not that type of person. I’m sure she would have-“ 

“You know her now. She’s so different now. When Dad died, she... it was like a part of her went with him. She didn’t care about anyone for a few months, not even herself.” Alex takes a big gulp of her bourbon. She grimaces a little afterwards, the burn goes down rough. “But enough about my dad. You never really talk about yours, are we just going to see your mom or-“ 

Sam shakes her head, cutting her off. “Just m- just Patricia. Patricia was never married, I don’t think,” 

“Oh, so you don’t know who your dad is?” Alex asks, with raised eyebrows. 

“Or my mom. Adopted,” 

“Oh yeah,” She looks back down at her glass. 

“So... Patricia might know about the... sleepwalking. I don't know. She's the only lead we've got," At the end of her sentence, Alex gives her a tight lipped smile. Sam doesn’t know why she feels the need to elaborate, but she does. “They use the word ‘lead’ in CSI Miami when they-“ 

Alex has her empty glass halfway to her mouth before a raucous laugh bursts out of her. 

“Are you defining the word ‘lead’ for me, using CSI as your source?” 

“I don’t know you looked at me like you didn’t get it so- so I’m going to shut up now,” It’s embarrassing, she blames the tequila for making her word vomit like that. Her cheeks burn as Alex sets her empty glass down, and her hand comes to rest on Sam’s arm, warm through the fabric of her shirt. 

“No don’t I- I’m sorry for laughing. You’re cute. I mean that was cute. What you- nevermind. Bartender-!” She pulls her hand away to call another drink before last call, and Sam’s taken by the sight of the back of her neck, flushed red, as are the tip of her ears. 

Did she make Alex flustered by being a dork? 

Wow. Maybe she’s still got it. She has to fight the smile on her face before Alex turns back around. She presses her hands against her cheeks, bringing them over her mouth as Alex gets another bourbon, and an extra shot of tequila for Sam. 

It’s this giddy sort of excitement that fills her up when Alex clinks their glasses together, and it’s then that Sam notices the place is nearly empty. The last few people have filtered out, and it’s them and some old guy who’s chatting to one of the other staff. 

There’s a girl setting the stools on the tables, and the reminder that their time is limited here sinks in with a cold feeling in her bones. 

She quickly skulls the last of her tequila, a bit of liquid courage, hopefully it’ll make the world go all nice and intangible, get rid of that tension in her body and replace it with that sloppy fluidity. That’s a better alternative to the tight-muscled jaw-clenched anxiety that’s been writhing inside her since they left that gas station. 

Every second is ticking towards the inevitable. There’s no running if she wants answers. There’s no hiding now. 

She can’t run from this, but maybe she can delay the inevitable a little bit. Alex gives her an out. 

“It’s been so long since I danced,” She says with a sigh, feeling Alex's eyes on her, she gives her a half smile, wriggling her fingers out at her like she could coax her off the stool that way. She nearly laughs at the earnest look on her face. She is genuinely asking her to dance right now, in the middle of the nearly-empty bar. 

It’s funny how it’s come to this. Sam stands with her shoulders back and a kind smile on her face, her eyes sparkling with a quiet sort of confidence, like she  _ knows  _ that Alex is going to say yes. 

“As long as you don’t step on my feet  _ too  _ much, how bad can it be?” She drawls, and she doesn’t have to look up to know Sam’s surprised smile is so warm, it could melt even the iciest of hearts. She takes Sam’s hand, sliding against a palm that’s warm and fingers that are so delicate compared to Alex’s own, it’s almost easy to forget how dangerous-

She pauses. She takes a breath, and she can see Sam in front of her, slowly pulling back, sensing in that unnerving way, exactly what Alex isn’t saying. 

“It’ll be fine. Let me take the lead?” Her voice is soft, and she pulls closer to Alex, and it’s amazing — it’s  _ simple  _ for her to fit with Sam like this. Sam brings their joined hands close, guides Alex into a gentle sway. It’s easy for Alex’s free hand to find its place on Sam’s shoulder as the music swells, fills the space around them, blankets them in warm and tender tones. 

The first words of the song start to come, a steady, sultry drone from the jukebox. Alex draws Sam closer, resting Sam’s hand firmly on her hip, so she can get her own to rest on Sam’s shoulder. 

The hope that fills Sam’s eyes is palpable. She almost glows, and Alex has to chuckle at that, ducking her head just a bit, glancing at the steps their feet take because that look Sam’s giving her is waking up that hope inside of her again.

It’s in her eyes, and it’s always in her eyes, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen Sam lie to her before, she’s always been honest, and her eyes are a testament to that. Open, honest, she wears her emotions right in those rings of hazel brown. 

She’s drawn to Sam’s eyes, to the curve of her cheek, to the smile that rests on her lips. It’s a version of the song Alex hasn’t heard before. The jukebox plays it slow and easy, and as they move, the room seems to fade from view. Her focus is on the woman in front of her, the way the soft light accents the gentle curves of her face, the way honey-gold eyes stare at her like she hung the moon in the sky. 

It moves her. She feels it in her chest, a physical thing. She feels it around her, a warmth that burns just beneath her skin. 

She’s smiling, her cheeks burn with it, and she sees Sam’s answering smile light up her whole face. She has to look away then, it’s too much. She makes it hard to breathe. 

Sam gives her a respite, and for a few gentle moments she rests her head alongside Alex’s, the softness of her hair against her cheek, her body pressed up closer as the hand that had rested on her side a moment ago slides up to rest on her back.  

“I’ve always wanted to slow dance like this,” Sam murmurs, and  _ what _ ? Alex draws back, but only because that doesn’t seem like it can be true. 

“You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t-“ 

“Not like  _ this _ ,” Sam says, and when her eyes meet Alex’s, Alex understands. “Not with you,” She says nothing else after that. She leaves Alex to process that on her own, but her hand pulls Alex closer. She melts into the embrace, following the steps as the she processes those words. 

_ Not like this. Not with you.  _

Her heart starts to flutter, because of course it does. They’re standing cheek to cheek now as they dance, and it’s  _ dancing _ now. Sam is getting more confident, and she can feel her smiling as she guides them in a small circle in the tiny space in front of the jukebox. 

Sam’s little burst of confidence comes with a strange little smile on her face as she concentrates, but doesn’t take things too seriously of course. It makes her nose wrinkle, and it brings a chuckle out of Alex, that grows to a full blown laugh when she tries to get Alex to spin around. 

It’s ridiculous, but she’s lighter than she’s ever been on her feet. 

This must be what flying feels like. 

Or maybe not flying.  _ Falling.  _

And then all too soon, the song fades out in the way old songs are wont to do, as they slowly float back to the real world, and they’re back in the shitty little bar in the middle of nowhere, and Sam’s letting go of her with a ridiculous bow like she’s some old timey gentleman. 

Alex swats at her arm and she stands back up, and things are a bit less dizzying and confusing now that Sam’s laughing and tossing an arm around her shoulders like this, and her heart swells so much she feels like it might just burst. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sam asks, nudging her side, and Alex has to chuckle. 

“I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” Alex says, and Sam gives her a proud little smile. “You’re not a bad dancer. For a werewolf,” 

“Oh really?” she lets out a shocked little gasp, her hand resting on her chest as she pushes Alex lightly. “You make a habit out of dancing with werewolves?” 

“Only the special ones,” Alex teases, and Sam’s smile is just as warm and beautiful as it always is. 

And then she remembers. 

_ She can’t have this.  _

Things go bittersweet from there. 

She steps back a little. Alex closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. In, out. When she opens her eyes again, Sam’s still watching her, although her eyes are now just the slightest bit confused. 

But Alex thinks fast, digging a quarter out of her pocket. 

“One last dance before we go?” she starts to back towards the jukebox, and Sam's confusion turns into a tentative smile. 

“They’re closing,” Sam says, but it's a weak excuse. 

The bartender seems to catch their conversation, and they give them a crooked smile as they polish a glass. “This is the most action that dance floor’s had in a decade. If you ladies wanna dance some more, you’re more than welcome to,” 

Damn it. And Alex is looking at her with that disarming crooked smile, her hand held out in front of her like she did before-

“I guess I just lost my excuse,” she murmurs, and Alex turns around after selecting a song, grabbing her hand and dragging her back to the middle of the floor with a smirk. 

“Come on, party pooper,” 

This dance is different. There’s nobody around, the last call was several minutes ago. The lights are almost all out, and Alex holds Sam's hand in her own, just stepping at first from side to side, a simple box step. There’s a hush in the whole space now. There’s nothing but them, the music, the warmth of the dark that wraps around them like a blanket. 

And it could turn so serious, it could be something deeper, when she sees Alex's dark eyes watching her, and she remembers how easy it would be to lean forward, to take her lips-

But then it turns playful, when Alex starts rocking them with a bit more enthusiasm from side to side, and Sam’s laugh bubbles out of her chest with an energy that surprises even herself, startling her out of that bad mood. 

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the fact they’re in a bar where nobody knows their name, and nobody will ever see them again. Maybe it’s Alex’s body, as she twirls her then pulls her up closer, body pressed up against her own, as they dance like fools in this tiny dive bar, twirling each other and stumbling over each others' feet but it doesn’t matter, none of it matters. 

Who knows what it is, but Sam laughs until she cries, and cries until she laughs, and she holds onto Alex and a part of her knows — she will never be able to let Alex go. 

-

The motel isn’t far. They walk back, but it feels more like dancing, because Sam hasn’t stopped floating since they left the music behind. 

She’s on cloud nine, and as Alex laughs along with her, and tries to keep her grounded in reality — dragging her back from spinning around street lamps because she doesn’t want them to make a scene in front of the locals of this highway town — she almost forgets. 

Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s so full of life, so full of  _ joy _ , and she’s staring down at Alex with a look in her eyes that makes her believe that she’s got that same energy inside of her too. That she’s got that same fire burning inside her, and it never died out when Maggie left her, because it was never something for anyone else to take. 

Sam drags her by the hand through the motel parking lot, between parked cars harshly lit by white street lamps. Her hands are warm where the air is cool, and she keeps glancing back at Alex like she can’t quite believe she’s still following. 

Alex can’t quite believe she’s still following her, but she doesn’t know if she'd want to do anything else. 

After grabbing their bags, they burst through the doors to the motel, and Sam's all smiles and bursting with happiness in a way that startles the old woman behind the counter. She draws back, dropping a chewed up pencil down on the counter, and she adjusts her glasses, smiling weakly back at Sam, glancing at Alex all the while. 

This is most likely not the type of place where people drop by at such a late hour with wide smiles and boundless energy. It  _ is  _ probably the place where people turn up drunk, though, and after Alex gives her a little half shrug and a tilt of her head, the old woman gets it, raising one barely-there grey eyebrow before looking at the ancient computer in front of her. 

"It's rooms, you're looking for?" 

"Yes, a double, if you have one," Sam leans with both arms on the counter. 

The woman types at the computer, only using one finger on each hand. An incredibly inefficient way of typing, but she probably doesn't get that many guests, so it wouldn't really be an issue. She types, then there's a moment of pause, before her face sours up and she gives them an apologetic look. 

"Oh sorry, it seems like we don't have doubles with the two single beds, and we don't really have much else available. I can give you one with a double bed...-" 

They both glance at each other. Wasn't that what Sam had asked for in the first place-

"So sorry for the inconvenience. I won't charge you for the double, I'll make it the same price as a single for you girls," 

"Oh that won't be necessary, that's what we-" Sam starts, but Alex is quick to jump in. 

"Okay that's great! Thanks," Alex takes the keys before Sam can say anything else 

 

They're walking outside now, Sam jogging behind Alex as she walks briskly to their room. 

"Alex she gave us this for almost half the price. I feel bad," 

"Don't feel bad. It's a discount," Alex resists the urge to roll her eyes as she tracks the faded numbers stuck onto the doors. 

"Yeah but we were going to share a bed anyways," Sam stutters, and Alex hears it in the way she stumbles a little as she walks behind her. "I mean. Not to presume anything but-"

Ah, here they are. She stops, and Sam nearly walks into her. Alex slides the key into the lock, and pauses. It seems to be the worst possible thing for her to have done in Sam's eyes, because she's standing behind her with a mortified expression on her face. Every moment that Alex does nothing, her embarrassment only seems to grow-

Until the smile creeps up onto Alex's face. "We slept together last night, you really think I'm going to be mad about sharing a bed here?" 

Sam scowls, and that petulant look on her face has Alex laughing out loud as she slides the door open. "I was trying to be- you know what? I just won't keep your feelings in mind when I do anything ever," 

"Alright. I'll get ready for you to hurt my feelings," Alex deadpans, tossing her bag onto the ground near a faded sofa. 

Sam falls backwards onto the bed, and the springs squeak in protest. It's not a five-star place by any stretch of the imagination, but Sam lets out a great big sigh, melting into the mattress. 

"You're just going to sleep like that? In those clothes?" 

Sam opens one eye slowly, a grin spreading on her face. "Why, you want me out of them?" 

"No I'm just- I'm gonna take a shower," 

Sam bites her tongue to avoid offering her company. She's more than satisfied with the way that Alex's face looked after her less-than-subtle insinuations. She's so  _ easy  _ to make flustered, and each time she glances away or bites her lip as that flush spreads across her face it makes Sam really  _ really  _ wish things would be easier for them.

She's alone when Alex slides the bathroom door shut. She can still hear her moving about in the bathroom, so she's not entirely alone, but she's noticing now, without Alex taking up all her attention, exactly where they are. 

Then she gets a message. It cuts through her analysis of the outdated furnishings. 

_ Lena- So, I tell you to take a vacation, and you end up nearly reported missing?  _

Oh. Right. She forgot to keep Lena updated on- well  _ shit.  _ She can't tell her, can she? Ruby's obviously told her  _ something _ ... 

A joke. That'd do it. That'd be the best response. She hears the shower go on, and she quickly shoots a response to Lena's message. That was sent several hours ago. So she might not even be able to respond quickly. 

_ Sam- You know me. Go hard or go home.  _

She's about to toss her phone back towards her bag, she's already leaning over the edge of the bed, wrist at the ready, when her screen lights up again, with another incredibly fast message from Lena. 

Damn it. 

_ Lena- what's going on sam _

_ if you need, i have the number for that psychologist _

_ she's very discreet _

_ i can send her to you as well if you would like.  _

Great. She huffs, and rolls back onto the bed. She doesn't need this right now, doesn't need Lena's help, and while she'd usually be so relieved to have her in her corner, this is just... way too complicated. 

What would she even tell a regular psychologist?  _ 'Help, my sleep schedule's all messed up, doc. I think it might be the lycanthropy. Can you write me up a prescription for some silver bullets? Some wolfsbane?'  _

The thought makes Sam snort. 

_ Sam- I don't need a psychologist. I'm figuring stuff out.  _

_ I've got it under control.  _

_ Lena- oh yes i heard about that _

__ _ the woman you're falling for _

_ ruby told me that you're out with her for three days.  _

_ Sam- of course she did _

_ Lena- and so you leave ruby with some random stranger while you go off on a trip with your new love?  _

Wow. Sam isn't sure how to describe the vibes that gives her, but if she's looking from Lena's perspective, it does look strange. She just wouldn't know how to ask Lena to drop her CEO duties for a few days while she went to Patricia's, and Eliza was right there, and she is so good with Ruby-

_ Sam- it's not like that.  _

_ lena you know i wouldn't do that  _

The next message takes a little longer to come in. It doesn't solve the sting from that bite. 

_ Lena- that came out harsher than i intended.  _

_ i apologise.  _

_ I'm just worried about you.  _

_ you've changed.  _

Sam notes the lack of capitalisation. That's not like Lena. But Lena's apology seems as genuine as one over text can be. 

She just wishes that she could tell her that she's right. She  _ has  _ changed. There are strange things going on with her right now, but she can't- and she isn't sure why she's keeping such a big secret from her best friend, but she doesn't want to drag her into this too. 

This feels like something she should deal with alone. She's going to figure out what's causing this, and she's going to  _ deal with  _ it, and she's going to go back to living a normal life. That's it. 

_ Sam- i trust alex. i trust her mother too.  _

_ I need to figure this out, and alex didn't want me to drive alone to patricia's _

_ Lena- you're going to patricia's?  _

_ you haven't seen her in years  _

_ Sam- i know.  _

_ Lena- why didn't you tell me.  _

_ I would have come with you.  _

_ I have things i want to say to her _

_ Sam- that's why i didn't invite you along.  _

_ I'm only going there to find out about my medical history _

_ Lena- i can be civil when i want to be _

_ Sam- you wouldn't be civil with patricia and you know it  _

_ Lena - when are you thinking of coming back from midvale? i want to talk to you _

"Bathroom's free," 

_ Sam- in a month, maybe _

She finishes typing, and tosses the phone onto the side table. When she looks up, Alex is walking in, a gentle smile on her face as she curls her fingers around the threshold. 

"Everything okay?" She asks, and Sam wonders if it's really that obvious, if Alex can tell by just looking at her face, that she was thinking about her old life. 

"Yeah? Yeah. Everything's fine. Just sleepy," she lies, getting up and stretching out her arms.

Alex smiles, and Sam goes to use the bathroom. When Sam gets back, she's already beneath the covers, and she assumes she's already fallen asleep. 

-

It’s later that night, when she’s on a crappy motel bed in this town with no name, that she thinks about the woman lying asleep next to her. 

Because Sam prefers to take things slow, and she deserves to have a chance to figure herself out and Alex is going to give that to her (even though sometimes, when blush pink lips turn upwards into a beautiful smile she wants nothing more than to see if those kisses are still as sweet as they look). 

She can see her in the dark though. Silhouette on the bed, gentle curve of her body as she sprawls across the bed on her stomach, one arm beneath the deflated pillow, propping it up. 

She wants to touch. She wants to curl into the space between Sam’s arm and her body, where she knows she’d fit so well. She  _ wants _ , but it’s about more than just the simple desire to be close to someone. 

She wants to be close to  _ Sam.  _

She wants to wake up in her arms, to feel her body next to her as she sleeps. She wants to dance with one person for the rest of her life, and that’s probably the scariest thing of them all. She’s falling for her, and in the dark of the night, when Sam’s eyes are softly closed, her quiet breaths are deep as she sleeps - it all seems so simple and so uncomplicated. There's no wolf, there's no mystery, there's nothing behind them in Midvale, nothing that they're heading towards either. 

She faces the wall instead, and lets the sound of Sam's breathing drag her down into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so in the end, i couldn't decide what song i wanted them to dance to in the bar. so fill in your own favourites. if you're wondering, there's a cover of 'the end of the world' by sharon van etten which i listened to a lot while i was writing their first dance. 
> 
> this is a shoutout for my amazing commenters. i love you all. i seriously cannot stress how much your comments mean to me, and how without you, there would be no fic but really. without your amazing comments, there would be no cryptid au and i would have probably let this concept die in the abyss that is my google drive.   
> but you exist, and you are all so kind, so i'm still going strong, months after starting this, so big hugs and kisses to you all. 
> 
> thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos, see you next time for patricia's big moment :P


	12. patricia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sam finally goes to visit patricia to get some answers. it goes about as well as you'd expect.

Sam groans when Alex opens the bathroom door again. The light from the bathroom window cuts through the haze of sleep, rousing her in the most unpleasant way possible. 

She tosses her arm over her eyes, and groans again as she hears a chuckle. With Alex this awake, she’s never going to get back to sleep. 

“I didn’t know you were a lightweight,” 

“I don’t exactly spend much time in bars. They’re not really kid-friendly,” 

The bed dips as Alex sits beside her. Sam hears a rattle and a crack, then two small round things are pressed into her hand. The warmth of Alex’s hand leaves her, and water is poured into a glass. 

“Why are you nice to me? Do you like me or something?” Sam says, and it’s obviously the wrong thing to say, because the sound of water being poured stops. 

“Of course I- you know what, get dressed.” The bed creaks, and Alex stands up abruptly, jostling Sam, who lets out a groan and uncovers her eyes. “We can’t spend all day lounging around,” 

Alex has a tell, even if she tries to be all stony-faced and serious. The very tips of her ears. Red. 

Sam grins, and Alex looks away. “What are you smiling at?” 

“You. You  _ like  _ me." 

“Shut up," Alex grumbles, going to her duffle bag, and starts stuffing her clothes back into it. 

“Why are you all stressed?” Sam asks, finally sitting up to take the aspirin offered. Alex doesn’t turn around, but she’s obviously agitated. 

It gets worse. She starts balling things in and shoving them in her bag- when did she take all that out anyways? It’s when she starts working on Sam’s things that she stands up and goes over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey, talk to me,” Sam tries to turn Alex around. The shirt she had just bundled up drops to the top of her bag, and she faces Sam with a look of concern- concern for her and not for herself.

“I’m not stressed. I’m fine. How are you feeling? Your going to see your mother-“ 

Then the realisation sinks in, and Sam wonders when the room got so cold. “Oh yeah. Today’s the big day,” 

-

She kind of regrets bringing it up. 

She’s in a mood, oddly reminiscent of Ruby, when they’d thought Sam was missing. She hasn’t smiled since they got into the car, she doesn’t look at Alex, she’s oddly quiet. 

Thinking, Alex assumes. 

They’re at the point in their journey where the GPS sees fit to tell them to turn every couple of minutes. Before they’d been driving for countless miles on open road without using the blinkers once, now Alex is trying to keep track of street names in this area she doesn’t know until she’s rolling up to a nondescript white house, on an average street, in a not-too-bad neighborhood. 

She doesn’t know what she expects when Sam says a soft “This is it,” and points to the house on a little rise, with planter boxes out front with fresh growing flowers. All she knows is that Sam is worried, and she’s stalling as Alex parks beside the house, and they’re both left in silence once the engine cuts out. 

She asks, anyways, even though she knows the answer, knows what she’d prefer in this situation. "Do you want me to come in with you?" 

"No. I have to do this on my own," 

"Okay. Okay," She turns to look over at Sam, and again, she doesn’t meet her gaze. 

Sam closes her eyes shut, squeezes them shut, her fingers rest at the top of her nose, she shakes her head, before letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm not even sure she still lives here," 

"Well, I'll wait in the car," 

She goes to reach out towards her, but stops, resting her hand on the gearshift instead. Sam gives her a wan smile, it doesn’t meet her eyes. 

 

This is her old house. 

But she doesn’t quite remember it. It’s alien, it feels too...  _ normal.  _ There’s a faded welcome mat by the door, plants on the porch. The glass on the front door is a little dirty, like Patricia hasn't gotten around to cleaning it just yet. 

 

Alex watches from the car, as an elderly woman walks up to the door, she doesn't look anything like Sam, Alex isn't sure why that surprises her, considering that Sam did say she was adopted. 

But still, her entire demeanor is different.  _ Sam's  _ demeanor is different. Sam is a tall woman, and her mother- Patricia, she recalls - is barely up to her shoulders, but it's like Sam shrinks under her gaze. 

And then after a short bout of tense conversation by the door, they walk in, and Alex can see them no more. 

There's a delayed moment where she wonders if she'll see Sam come rushing out right away, but as the seconds tick past, and the seconds turn to minutes, she realises that things aren’t that bad. She doesn’t need to be seated here, holding onto the wheel like a getaway driver in a heist film. 

She rests her head back against the headrest, closes her eyes, and sighs. There are birds in the trees nearby, chattering to themselves. There aren’t many cars in this area, but she can hear the sound of conversation down the street. It’s quiet, almost peaceful. A direct contrast to what she thinks might be happening in there. 

But she can’t go in. She can’t rush in, interrupt this, even though every part of her is screaming out for her to be there by Sam’s side. 

She can only wait. 

-

It’s too  _ homely _ . But there are no pictures on the walls now, like there had been in her childhood. She wonders where they’ve gone. If she tossed them out afterwards. If she ever felt regret. She paces the living room, almost searching for them, as if she’d find them behind the sofa, beside a vase, hidden away in a corner somewhere. 

Her pacing must be annoying Patricia. It  _ always  _ annoyed Patricia.  

“Sit down, will you?” She says, and it’s too fake, she pretends to be hospitable, pointing to the worn sofa with a firm hand. It’s not a suggestion, it’s a demand, but Sam isn’t here to be bossed around. 

“No, not until you tell me. Not until you tell me the  _ truth _ ,” 

"What truth?" She plays ignorant, shaking her head, her lips pursed, and that only gets Sam more anxious. 

"I want to know about my birth mother," 

"Well you can sit down first," she seems extremely adamant that she sit down. Sam doesn't know if this will get her the answers she needs, but she sits down anyways. 

The couch is too soft, and she doesn't know what to do with her hands. She rests them on her thighs, she tries to keep them steady, but she's sure that Patricia can see how her hands are shaking with all of this, built up inside her. 

She walks, and stands by the old dining table, a too-sweet smile on her face. "So. What about her? What's brought all this on?" 

She feels like she's on the spot, and she doesn't know why this makes her more uncomfortable. She glances down at her hands again, her constantly twitching hands, and she pushes them beneath her legs now, looking over at Patricia, who stares at her with an expression that is almost unreadable in its duplicity. "You never told me anything. You never told me about where I came from-" 

"There was nothing to say," she says, in a manner-of-fact way, shaking her head with that same, infuriating smile. "There is nothing to say. I don't know who your birth mother, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter," 

Sam grits her teeth, about to respond, but Patricia cuts her off, throwing the information at her like she's trying to just...  _ shut her up _ . She speaks with so much venom, Sam feels like each word burns her skin. 

"I found you as a baby. You were tiny, a tiny thing. In a pile of old clothes, on my doorstep. You were abandoned. She didn't  _ want  _ you. So I took you in. What else do you want to know?" 

"That isn't it. That isn't- you know more than you let on. I need to know if anything  strange happened, when I was growing up," 

"What do you mean by  _ strange _ , you were never a normal child. You were never an  _ easy  _ child to raise," 

"Did I ever sleepwalk? Did I ever just... get up and leave in the middle of the night? Forget where I'd been, forget that I even left?" Something,  _ something  _ in what she says gets a reaction from Patricia. The corner of her mouth twitches, and so Sam continues, she needs to know if she  _ knew.  _ "Did my clothes end up torn, did I make a mess, did you ever see that?" 

Patricia, in her infuriating way, keeps shaking her head, keeps responding,  _ "No,  _ no you never did anything like that. No," but she doesn't meet her eyes, she's  _ lying,  _ she's keeping something from her, and Sam is getting desperate now. 

"Patricia,  _ what  _ are you not telling me?" it's a little bit of emotion that breaks into her voice. Just the tiniest bit, as she stands up from the too-soft couch, and Patricia is shorter than she remembers, she's older, but she's no less intimidating to Sam now-

So it's a complete shock when she flinches back, takes a step, a momentary flash of fear in her eyes. 

Sam has made her  _ afraid _ . 

-

Several hours later she will wake up in a cold sweat, gasping like she’s starved for air. Alex’s hands on her shoulders, her voice in her ear, try to drag her back to the present, but she’s trembling, shaking like she never has before. It’s like her skin is too tight for her body, and Alex must sense it because she backs off a little, and that hurts, it hurts with a sudden, searing pain to her chest. 

For only a second, but it’s enough. 

Sam can’t sleep for the rest of the night. She’s haunted by the thought that Alex doesn’t trust her. That she can’t trust  _ herself _ . 

-

And in that moment, she realises that she’s been walking blind her whole life. Blind to who she really was, unaware of the beast that waited inside her for any opportunity to break out. Something so  _ ugly _ , so  _ terrifying _ , that it made her own mother fear her. 

“You knew,” 

It’s a quiet realisation. A slow one. Sam looks down at Patricia, and Patricia can’t meet her eyes, they well up with tears —  _ tears _ , as if  _ she  _ is the one who should feel broken about this, as if  _ she’s  _ the one who just found out that she’d been lied to for years about who she really was. 

The silence after she whispers those two words is damning. Patricia doesn’t look directly at her, she looks up, but looks  _ through _

“I loved you, Sam. I raised you as my own, even if you were...  _ different _ . I thought you’d grow out of it-“ 

“I  _ never  _ grew out of it, don’t you see?! You didn’t tell me. I thought I was just going crazy but this... this is worse, Patricia. This is a lot worse,” She holds her emotions back the best she can, but a hint of hysteria creeps into her voice, it makes Patricia take the defensive. 

“You were thirteen, I thought you’d grow o-“ 

“ _ Thirteen _ . You didn’t think to tell me, you knew about Ruby, you know how old she is now, you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“I couldn't tell you, not when you were that young. Would you?” Patrica stands up, and her body shakes as she shouts, every word thrown at Sam with so much force it  _ hurts,  _ she keeps backing away, and Sam doesn't walk any closer, but she's throwing this vitriol in her direction, and it sends her reeling. “Would you tell Ruby, now? As old as she is, that she’s  _ cursed?  _ That there’s no way to fix that type of  _ thing  _ that she is, that the only mercy you could show her was a bullet to the head?” 

_ How dare she.  _ “Don’t you  _ dare _ talk about Ruby. You had so many opportunities to tell me, Patricia. And then you kicked me out!” she shouts back, but her voice breaks, and she’s a child again. 

She’s sixteen, and begging to be let back inside. It’s a part of herself that she hates, because it is weak, and it is fragile, and it only wants to be  _ loved _ , oh does it want love, but it never can find it. She wants to understand, she wants to give Patricia another chance to explain herself, because maybe,  _ maybe  _ she can be redeemed.

“Why? When you  _ knew?”  _ and her voice is high pitched and quiet, pleading for her to just tell her something,  _ anything _ to make this better. 

But Patricia just shakes her head. Responds in a calm, simple tone. “It was for the best,” 

And then there’s something else that surges inside her, and it’s so rapid and fast it’s not quite anger, not quite hatred. It just builds, and roils inside her- 

_ betrayal.  _

The tears come, and she’s shaking her head, storming to the door. She has to get out- 

Patricia doesn’t follow. 

She doesn’t know why she expected her to, but a part of her  _ did _ , and that hurts more than anything else. This is it, the nail in the coffin. 

-

Eliza will feel sorry for some of her plants in the winter. It rarely snows in Midvale, but the morning frost will probably be enough to hurt some of them. 

They end up smaller than they started out as, drooping leaves, sparse and kind of sad, but almost always, as soon as spring would come around, there would be new buds forming on the bare twigs, the older leaves would brighten up, go back to their former glory. 

She’s out there now, just tending to the plants. Maybe if she feeds them a bit more, they’ll be a bit stronger once the real cold sets in, be able to withstand the cold a bit better. 

She’s wiping off her hands when she hears the back door open, hears footsteps on the back porch. Sure enough, she has company. 

Ruby stands there, watching her. When she catches her eyes, she starts to walk towards her, looking around at all the plants. 

“You do gardening?” 

“I live on this big property by myself. I have to take care of it,” 

It’s easier, to have the herbs she needs in the garden. Some herbs don’t last long in the fridge, having them back here means less trips to the center of town. 

Less trips means less saddened looks from shopkeepers and old friends. She’s tired of their pity, of their pity for the poor widow of the Lieutenant that went mad. She misses him every day, of course, and she wishes she could mend his reputation, she wishes she could make them remember him for the man that he was, not the man that he became. 

The garden is quiet and serene. In the distance she can hear the waves crashing at the cliffs, almost a low rumble, the titans clashing. 

She’s working on resettling some of her plants too, to the raised bed that is somewhat sheltered by the house. Perhaps this will give them a better chance to survive, moving them out of the open, where they’re exposed. 

Ruby watches with interest, but she’s got something on her mind. She swings back and forth, and Eliza is just about ready to ask her when she tells her anyways. 

"You know, they went to see my grandma. I've never met her before," 

She wants to act surprised, but the town being the way it is, she’s heard the whispers already from J’onn. Sam had Ruby young, and her mother abandoned them both. Apparently, it was a teacher who had found that out on the school’s grandparents day. She wonders what that says about their town, that things told to a teacher spread so fast, even the woman in self-imposed exile hears of it. 

"Do you want to meet her?" Eliza asks. 

"No,"  "I- I thought I did. When I was smaller. Cause I thought- everyone else has grandparents. Some people get to stay over at their grandma or grandpa's house. And I wanted to know what that was like," 

Eliza doesn’t say anything. She’s not really sure of what to say, the girl just seems to enjoy rambling. Quite like Kara, in that respect. She sits up on the edge of the planter box next to Eliza, and long legs swing in rhythm. 

"I know what it's like now. I'm not saying you're old like a grandma I'm just-" 

She laughs, and her chest swells a little with emotion. "I understand, Ruby. No need to worry about offending me. I'm honoured, you know, that you see me like that," 

"Can you not tell Alex about this? I don't want my mom to be mad at her.” 

"Why would she be mad?" 

"Cause she was always telling me before, that this was only for a short while. We have to go back to National City eventually." 

And that gives Eliza pause. 

Alex is smitten with this woman, in a way that Eliza feels like she’s never seen before. She only really met her other lover a handful of times, and even then that had been different, with all the wild energy of a first love. 

This woman — Sam, she brings something  _ else  _ out of Alex. Alex has always been a protector at heart, she fills her namesake well, and with the way she cares for that woman- 

She’s already in deep. If this woman were to leave her? Her heart would surely break. 

And she’d only  _ just  _ started to break out of her shell again. She’d started to reach out to those around her. J’onn had told her about how he hadn’t seen Alex  _ smile _ , so genuine and open around another person until he saw her around Sam. The old Alex had started to shine through. 

She looks over at her side, and Ruby has a handful of dirt. She doesn’t seem to mind that her hands are getting dirty, that there’s going to be stains on her jeans from where the dirt falls through her fingers. There’s a worm in that handful of dirt, it wriggles around in the light, and she places it under one of the clumps of herbs. 

“Can I get some worms to put in the garden?” 

“If you can find any, then by all means,” 

Ruby’s smile is like her mother’s, wide and bright, and she slides off the edge of the raised planter, jogging towards a large puddle. Maybe she should have sent her off with gloves. 

-

Getting back to Alex's, she stays in that same deadly haze for the entire day it takes. And only a day this time, Alex must drive faster, because they don't even stop, they leave there in the afternoon, and get back to Alex's in the afternoon, she doesn't seem to rest, or maybe they do, by the side of the road. She cannot remember. Did they go to that motel? Did she even sleep? Was that even something that happened, or was that waking nightmare just a figment of her imagination? 

All that time between leaving Patricia's and arriving at Alex's feels like autopilot, then suddenly, she's in Alex's bathroom, water spurting from the old faucet, hitting her face, a frigid shock and she's gasping for air. 

When she looks up, she swears for a moment, her eyes aren't her normal hazel, but a sickly yellow, like an animal's eyes. As she drags her hands down her face in her shock, standing up straight, her lips part and she spots the edges of her teeth, they are long and animal-like, her gums are black and she's reeling back at the feeling of her nails against her skin, rounded and pointed like claws, sprouting from her fingertips- 

And then it's all gone when the door opens, and Alex brings with her the rest of the real world. 

Sam’s hands are normal, fingernails short, her teeth are human, her eyes are hazel. 

Alex brings her a few things. Her bag. Her hairbrush. The rest of her toiletries. “In case you want to freshen up before we pick up Ruby,” 

_ Ruby.  _

She gets ready. 

She finishes. She walks down the hallway. She doesn’t feel  _ real _ . She isn’t sure if the world has always felt like this, as if the walls around her were made with paper, the sounds around her filtered through a veil. Maybe she’s in her own head, or she’s out of it, she isn’t sure, but her body doesn’t feel her own. 

Maybe it never has been. 

Alex is in the kitchen. There's the smell of fresh coffee, the clink of a spoon around the sides of a cup as she stirs in the sugar. The little things stand out more.

She's not really looking towards Alex, though. There's a square of light passing over the back wall of the living room, there's a very visible line across the wallpaper, a more vibrant section of ugly patterning in a large rectangle in the center. And across it, there are tears the size of quarters, countless holes in the wallpaper. Sam realises why she's never noticed it before. 

“Your map...” Sam says, and her hand runs over the now empty wall, the hole-ridden wallpaper, that is almost clean, less dust on here than there is on the rest. 

She hears Alex step up behind her, sees the two cups of steaming hot coffee. She's trying to make sense of the reason why Alex has removed her map. The string. All of it. She'd taken the time to build it up, had explained it all to Sam sitting on the couch over there, and she'd been proud of her detective work, but now it's late afternoon and she's looking at this blank wall in the stark light and it's unsettling, because her mind is putting something together in a way that is logical, is reasonable, but-

It washes over her body and her heart begins to sink. She's finding it hard to breathe, and she looks over at Alex, her two mugs, her eyes are wide with concern. 

“All that evidence-“ Sam breathes, and Alex looks at the wall, and her face falls. 

“I didn’t want anyone to find out it was you,” 

Her voice is barely a murmur, but it could have been a shout, with how hard it hits Sam, nearly sends her reeling. “You think  _ I  _ did it?” 

Alex backtracks quickly, shaking her head, placing the cups down on the table. “Not you, not- not you, Sam. But all the signs were there that the cryptid-“ 

“Oh my god,” 

“-did it and-” 

“I made those people disappear,”  

“We don’t know that,” 

“But your map. The sightings. They all lined up,” 

“That was circumstantial at best,” Alex reaches towards her, but Sam backs away, she has to, shaking her head.  

It's a steady spiral. Like the water, as it had made its way down the drain, nowhere to go but down, down,  _ down  _ into herself, and the air in here feels way too thin, she has to get  _ out _ . 

She knows what's happening before it happens, can vaguely hear Alex behind her, calling out her name as the door slams and her feet are carrying her outside. Her skin is on fire, and she stumbles as she takes the steps, falls with a heavy thud onto the ground, and Alex is behind her again- 

_ "Don't touch me,"  _ It's her own voice, it comes from her throat, but it is so-  _ unlike herself _ , almost a growl, and it comes automatically, and she didn't want to say it, and as that burning grows, so does the hatred, bubbling inside of her. 

All she can do is run. 

-

“Hey,” Alex keeps her voice soft. The trees here seem to wrap around, to curl and bend, the underbrush is thick, but the wolf doesn’t seem to be hindered by that at all. 

She picks her way through the fallen branches and the tree roots, her eyes trained on Alex. Head hanging low, looking over at her with eyes that say everything that she can’t in this form. 

Alex reaches out a hand, but doesn’t make any other motion to move towards her. She doesn’t know what else she can do, what other comfort she can offer now, so she leaves it up to Sam. 

She can’t leave her arm outstretched forever, but she doesn’t have to. The wolf’s shoulders shift, she stretches out towards Alex, before taking a few tentative steps forward, light on her toes. 

One step. She stretches her neck out again, before taking another, then another, and Alex doesn’t budge as the wolf buries her nose in her hand, and continues forward until she is right up close to her, and she can hear the start of a noise of distress growing, rumbling in her chest. 

“It’s okay,” Alex says, stroking the side of her face, and the wolf leans heavily into the touch, the pained noises getting louder, higher-pitched. “You’re okay, look at me,” It takes some work to get the wolf to look up, but she uses both hands, and as soon as the wolf’s head has lifted up to be level with her own, the wolf tries to bury her nose beneath her chin, which is an... odd cold sensation, before she manages to maneuver her head to the side. 

She is curling in on herself, and Alex continues to mutter soothing words, continuing her hand motions, as the wolf slowly shifts. Bone-white fur becomes Sam’s chestnut coloured hair, her head stays on her chest but she falls into Alex, losing her balance as her center of gravity shifts, her body returns to human form. 

Her hands grip the sides of Alex’s shirt, and the tears begin to soak through it as Alex embraces her, presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“- _ monster _ ,” 

Alex tries to soothe her, but she knows she can’t. This is too much. “You’re not. You’re not a monster,” She offers what she can as she guides them both down to the ground, not caring that they are in the dirt, leaf litter sticking to Sam’s bare skin. 

It’s cold and damp here but it’s almost like Sam isn’t noticing it at all. Her hands cling to Alex, and Alex can only hold her tighter. 

That’s the only thing that seems to help. Holding her close, the pressure against her skin, it gets her tears to ease up, ‘till Sam’s only breathing heavy, hitches in her breath every now and again, that almost disappear in the rush of the breeze between the trees. 

She’s holding her together, squeezing her tight to close the gaps between her broken pieces. But it won’t be long before she breaks again, this isn’t going to fix everything. 

She isn’t able to fix everything. She can only do what she can. Right now, that’s getting Sam out of the woods. 

“Come home,” she murmurs against the side of Sam’s head, quietly, as not to disturb her. 

Sam shakes her head, and her voice cracks as she speaks. “I can’t face her. I can’t. She can’t know. Ruby can’t know. I can’t tell her-“ she’s bordering hysterics again, her eyes water as she backs up a little to meet Alex’s eyes, and as the welling tears threaten to spill, Alex puts her hands against the side of Sam’s face. 

“Then we won’t tell her,” she tries to soothe her, tries to ease her worry, she gets the grit and dirt on Sam’s face, tries to brush it off, but Sam shakes her head, shakes away. 

“I have to,” she says, her eyes growing distant. “What if she’s like me, what if she’s a-“ 

“We’ll figure that out, okay? We’ll figure that out when we get to it. But first we need to get you home,” Alex sees that faraway look in her eyes, and she needs to get her out of here, out of the dirt. “We need to get you home,” 

It feels like she has to carry Sam back to the house. She’s shivering now, the cold’s getting to her, even after Alex threw the blanket she’d snatched from the back porch over her shoulders. The cold makes her teeth chatter as she walks alongside Alex, stumbling a little over the twigs and tree roots and rocks and logs in their way. It’s harder now for her to walk without shoes now, with two legs now, than it had been for her to take off into the woods as soon as the car had stopped at Alex’s place. 

They’re going so slow, Alex is terrified that if she doesn’t, they’ll never make it. Sam might die out here in the woods, is that a hint of blue on her lips? 

“I’ll carry you,” Alex says, and starts to move herself into position before a hand on her shoulder stops her. 

“No, I’m heavy. You’ll hurt yourself,” 

“I’ve carried you before, I can do it,” Alex smiles a little as she says it, but instead of being convincing, it comes across as a little cocky. “You’re all leg and no muscle, it’s fine,” 

Sam’s eyes narrow, and her voice dips a little as she asks- “Did you just call me weak?”- and Alex wonders if it’s wise to antagonise a werewolf when they’re alone in the woods. 

But this is Sam, and so to prove her point, she sweeps an arm underneath the lanky woman’s legs, and hoists her up in one sharp movement. 

Maybe she’s showing off a bit. Sam doesn’t protest, and really, it would have taken so much longer if they were walking side by side. Her arms do burn a little, it’s one thing to carry her from the living room to the bathroom, it’s another to carry her for several yards, finding her way through the uneven ground. 

She can see the path they both made as they crashed through the woods, the underbrush thins out as they head back. Things go a lot faster, only a few more minutes, before Sam sees the house and she swings her legs and makes a sound of protest until Alex lets her down. 

-

They go to pick up Ruby later, when they ride over, the sun has already hit the horizon, the shadows are long, and Sam has her arms wrapped around herself. 

But she's quiet for a different reason now. She's fallen asleep, the shift must have taken something out of her. 

She gets to the house just as the sun finishes sliding down beneath the horizon, but the sky remains a violet-blue behind the clouds, that chill sets into the wind.The porch light is already on, a pinprick of light in amongst the shadowed grass. 

There's a figure standing on the front porch. Blonde hair and arms wrapped around herself. It doesn’t make sense though, as she gets closer, Alex realises the silhouette is all wrong. 

She’s a little hunched forward, but she stands taller, she’s more broad-shouldered than Eliza. 

It’s when she raises a hand, giving her a small wave, that her brain finally accepts what she’s seeing. 

" _ Kara? _ " 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took so long! writing is harder than it looks. but we're getting there.   
> also special thanks to florence + the machine for the song patricia.


	13. lone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sam finds out some things about herself   
> alex finds out some things about her family   
> i like writing about the beach

Whenever she thinks of winters in Midvale, her mind is called back to one moment, one all-encompassing feeling. She closes her eyes when the cold starts to bite at her skin, when the ground is damp and the scents of the forests are heavy with mud and moss. 

And she remembers Jeremiah’s hand, warm on her shoulder through the layers of her coat, sturdy and strong and unmoving when he looked her in the eyes and said- “You can’t come with me, Alex,” 

It had been a blow. She felt like she’d proven her merits, she  _ deserved  _ to be out there with him, trying to find the cryptid. But he doesn’t seem to flinch when she pouts, or when her arms are crossed and she huffs. 

“Why not?” 

He heads off, and the large trunks of the trees make him look tiny. She chases after him, and the racket she makes running after him causes him to pause, turning around with his hands on his hip. 

“Because, you’re going to just get in the way. I can’t get too close, can’t have it see me,” 

“I can be quiet!” she shouts- not her brightest moment. But she’s desperate. 

He smiles at that, and it makes his eyes wrinkle, his whole face soften — for a moment she lets herself hope, but he shakes his head again, and pauses. 

The pause holds up between them, and Alex can hear the sounds of the forest, the calling birds, the rustling trees. Her father stands, in colours the same as the trees, that same dark green, the glint of metal on his back, the gun he carries, slung over his back. 

He sighs, and it’s like the breeze between the trees. His shoulders rise and fall, and he shakes his head again, his voice now just a low grumble. “Alex I need to do this alone,” 

The frustration roils within her. He isn’t moving in his stance, isn’t budging, and the injustice of it all makes her clench her fists, raise her voice. “Why? Why can’t I come? I- I helped you with the photos, and with the map, I thought we were working together. I wanna see it-“ 

“I need to do this alone!” 

Her father had only ever raised his voice at her a handful of times. 

Perhaps this was when she should have realised something was wrong. Perhaps she should have pressured him further, should have gone with him. 

She turned heel and left, trudging through puddles and mud, and her tears burned her eyes as they rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t turn around. 

Jeremiah went into the woods. He was gone for two days. 

-

She’s uneasy about Kara's presence. She's wonderful, she's got a big wide smile and she's friendly enough, the antithesis of Alex, really, but some part inside her is unsettled by her presence. 

She’s got Eliza’s smile. The one that she’d noticed in the photos. The kind of smile someone gives, when they know something you don’t. 

Maybe it’s just the unease, maybe she’s heard something about her relationship with Alex, and she doesn’t like her dating her sister. She’s under no illusions that she isn’t the ideal date for someone like Alex. She comes with her baggage, she comes with a child, they are both two very different people... 

Maybe that’s why. Maybe she can see what Sam refuses to admit to herself. 

She’s sweet though, that small-town vibe hasn’t washed off after years in the city like it seems to have with Alex — while her older sister has lived in Midvale quite some time, she’s got that edge, that distance, that comes from living in an overcrowded city for too long. 

She has a dusting of freckles over her nose, and broad, thick-rimmed glasses that make her big blue eyes look even wider. If Sam hadn’t known she was adopted, she’d think she was very much Eliza’s, with the same sandy blonde hair. 

Sam’s out on the porch, watching Ruby as she kicks a now inflated soccer ball through the knee-high grass. The faded, cracked ball soars, kicked with a heavy  _ thud,  _ before it disappears in the tall grass, Ruby chasing after it. 

(Ruby’s jeans are definitely going to need a wash after this)

But she watches her, and she lets her thoughts wander, even as it gets darker, and the porch light’s halo of yellow glow starts to look more prominent against an indigo sky, and Ruby becomes a silhouette, bounding through the stalks, her hair streaming behind her, she has all the space in the world, the grass goes on for what feels like forever, the sky is so big here, the land so flat it almost looks like Ruby’s running with her head right in that thick blanket of clouds overhead. 

The screen door opens and shuts with a creak and a rattle, as someone else steps out onto the porch. Without turning around, she already knows, because the hairs on the back of her neck feel like they rise up at the approach of someone unfamiliar. She isn’t sure what part of her senses her before she consciously makes the connection, isn’t sure if it’s herself, or the passenger that lurks inside her. 

Either way, she tilts her head to the side, angling for the girl to step up beside her, and she does, her hands curling around the railing beside her, as she looks out at the darkening sky, at the girl running through the grass. 

They don’t look at each other. It’s a long moment until Kara finally speaks, her voice unusually light as it breaks the tension. 

“Lena misses you, you know?” 

Sam doesn’t let the surprise show on her face, but she knows it must show in how she tenses up, and nearly glances in Kara’s direction. But it’s easy enough now to connect Lena’s friend  _ Kara  _ to this Kara Danvers, she can see why her friend would trust this girl, even if she herself can’t help but be unsettled in her presence. 

“She won’t stop talking about you.” Kara’s words are soft, and there’s a hint of a smile in her voice. But the message in her voice remains, the underlying thing she’s trying to say, but won’t put into words, and she doesn’t know why it  _ matters  _ to this woman she’s never met, but she turns to look at her, and her eyes burn into the side of her head as she says next, “Come back to National City,” 

And the suddenness of her response startles her, it’s almost torn from her throat as her chest squeezes tight at the thought, the reminder - “ _ No _ ,” 

“Whatever’s holding you here...” 

Sam shakes her head to get rid of the cloudiness that has suddenly filled her mind. “I’ll come back in my own time, just... not right now. Not when I just-...” she lets her words trail off, and only then does she let her eyes meet Kara’s, and- 

_ She knows _ . 

Sam doesn’t know what it is that she knows, but she  _ knows _ , and there’s a wrinkle between her brows, and a look of pity in those eyes, and her hand is in a fist, she’s holding herself back from reaching out to touch Sam. 

And Sam knows the  _ last  _ thing she would want is for Kara to touch her right now, to offer her comfort, the thought itself makes her hackles rise, and she’s about to step back when the porch door swings open, the same noise of the screen door’s creaky hinges, the next person out isn’t as bothered with the noise she makes as her boots hit the deck, and she shoulders her way through the door, letting it slam behind her. 

Alex steps out, and her eyes narrow when she notices the tension in the air. To Sam, she’s a lifesaver, and she remembers to breathe when the woman’s dark eyes land on her and she glances at her sister, who now looks sheepish, smiling awkwardly, and Alex’s demeanor turns protective. “She isn’t giving you trouble, is she?” 

But it’s teasing all the same, and as Kara goes to protest with a “No, no we were just talking-“ Alex is snapping her fingers, dragging Kara by the shirt sleeve and pushing her towards the door. 

“Get in there, dork. Mom needs your help with dinner,” 

“Get Ruby to help you-“ Sam’s quick thinking gets Ruby out from the grass, and Alex and Sam both usher sister and daughter inside, only to leave the both of them on a chilly porch, out in the dark once the screen door rattles closed again. 

She’s been staring out at the fields for so long, but she didn’t realise that the darkness has now encroached almost fully. A few tiny little insects bat against the exposed bulb of the porch light. 

Alex stands next to her, a whole foot of distance between them, it feels more like a mile. She leans with her back against the railing, her arms crossed over her torso, and just watches Sam. 

Sam doesn’t know what she sees. But she knows what she’s asking about. She bends over to rest her forearms against the railing, stares into the dark, imagines shapes in the shadows to try and keep her mind busy as she admits what she’s terrified about. 

“Your sister knows me. Knows someone I used to work with in the city,” 

Alex lets out a sigh. Sam hears her move, settle in properly at something she must hear in the tone of Sam’s voice. “Ah, she knows about your ‘upper management’?” 

“She knows my best friend. She thinks I should go back,” The admission is enough to get Sam to look at Alex. 

“Do you want to?” Alex asks, in a tone nearing a whisper, and it’s there that Sam sees a flash of emotion in Alex’s honest eyes, but she can’t quite pinpoint what it is. 

“No. Not right now,” she clears her throat under the subtle intensity of Alex’s gaze. “But I don’t think it matters. In the end. I don’t think it matters what I want,” 

“I think you should think about what’s best for your daughter. And what’s best for yourself. Now that we know what we know,” 

She doesn’t let herself say what she wants, but she hopes she makes it clear, as she cups Alex’s face with her cold, numb hands. Brings her in 'till she can’t feel the chill on her lips anymore, until they’re sharing the same air, their foreheads rest together, her nose bumps Alex’s, and the other woman’s eyes fall shut. 

Alex is alive and real, warm under her palms, she takes one of Sam’s hands and brings the palm of it to her lips, which leave a kiss that burns the skin of her palm, the sweet sound so loud with how close they are. 

She’s here. Sam doesn’t have to go through this alone, figure it out on her own. She brushes her thumbs against the high arch of Alex’s cheekbones, alive under her fingertips, then against her lips. 

And when Alex opens her eyes, there’s an understanding that blossoms in those dark irises. She knows her decision, even if Sam herself is too afraid to say it out loud. 

But then real life chases them, breaks through this fragile moment as a voice calls out from inside, and instinct has Sam and Alex drawing back from each other, at Eliza’s call of “Dinner’s ready!” 

-

Alex is tense during dinner, she sits beside Sam and it makes her uncomfortable, like she can feel how worked up she is, rolling off her in waves. 

And Kara feels it too. The only people who don't seem to be bothered by it are Ruby and Eliza; Eliza by consciously ignoring her daughters, Ruby is simply oblivious. 

They don't go back home quite yet, even though Sam misses her own bed, she doesn't feel like she can drive, and Eliza refuses to let them anyways. She doesn't think Ruby would want to go either, when Sam and Alex offer to do the dishes, she grabs Eliza by the arm, and drags her towards the piano. 

This is her chance to ask Alex about what's going on, when Kara's disappeared further into the house, and there's nothing between them but a stack of dishes, a quiet kitchen, and the sounds of Ruby's discordant playing wafting in from the lounge room. 

She can see how Alex carries the tension in her shoulders, in the way her neck looks taut, and she places the dish cloth down once they're almost done, to run her hand along the column of Alex's neck, to try and knead it out a little. 

Her fingers are probably cold, and a little damp, but Alex doesn't mind, she folds into the touch, answering the question Sam doesn't voice. "She didn't show up for Dad's anniversary. She knew how much that meant to Mom. But she didn't come, and she shows up now, for that stupid festival and-" 

"Alex," Sam sighs, lets her hand rest on Alex’s shoulder. There's something more to this that Alex doesn't know, and Sam isn't sure if her instincts are right. She doesn't want to make assumptions, doesn't want to call this out when it doesn't seem likely, but there's something bothering her, it feels like Kara knows things she shouldn't know, it feels like she knows something that they don't. "I don't want to be on her side, but maybe she had a good reason. You should talk to her," 

Alex glances away again, shaking her head. Sam thinks she's going to have to come up with a reason why, but Alex uses that pause to turn off the tap, and reach for the dishcloth to wipe her hands. 

"Why do you have to be right?" She grumbles, tossing the cloth to the side, and it makes Sam chuckle. 

"One of us has to be. I'll finish up here," She takes the cloth, and as she sees Alex about to protest, she cuts her off by snapping the cloth in her direction. "I'm fine, I can wash a few plates. You need to have a conversation." 

-

If it was a perfectly clear night, she’d be able to see the stars. Map out the constellations, recall the stories. But right now, thick clouds blot out the most of them, but still she stands out there, hands in her pockets, staring up to give herself a moment to think. 

In the midst of the thick blanket, she spots a sparkle, a tiny little glimmer, which eventually clears up just a bit, so that Alex can get a glimpse at a hidden tapestry of stars beneath. She hopes for it to clear up more, she’s watching the tiny little window, hoping her mind will clear up just like it, when she hears the door behind her swing open, and hears the thud of familiar footsteps on the porch. 

“The stars make me think of him, too,” Kara calls out, and Alex can’t fight that anger that swells up inside her. 

How dare she. When she hasn’t been here. She brings him up so casually, just a hint of nostalgia whispered in her voice. Like he is something in the past, like she doesn’t even hurt anymore. 

Alex doesn’t turn around, her muscles tensed in place, she’s a statue. She’s going to hear her out, going to give her one more chance. 

“You weren’t here,” Alex chokes, and that little opening in the clouds that she’s been staring at, another wisp of clouds float to fill the gap, and she’s left with that familiar hot sting of tears. “You know how much that meant to mom.” 

Kara finally stands beside her. Alex can’t tell what she’s doing, her eyes are still focused on the sky. If she keeps her head up like this, she won’t have a chance to break down. 

“You know how much it meant to me, but you didn’t-“ 

“He was my dad too,” she whispers, and that’s the final straw. 

“But you didn’t even- you’re coming here for the  _ festival _ , why the fuck couldn’t you make it for-“ 

The words die on her tongue, as she continues to stare at the night sky, at the drifting clouds over a waning moon. 

Her own words seem to echo in her ears. She vaguely hears Kara speak, a whispered- “I couldn’t make it, Alex. But trust me, I would have. I wanted to come home, so bad. But I’m here now. I know that doesn’t make it better, but I’m here now,” 

When she stands in the fields, and looks up at the night sky, when she stands in the winter air, she feels closer to her father. But right now, she lowers her head, away from the pale face of the moon, and turns to look at her sister now. She’s older now, of course, than when they’d first met. 

When Jeremiah had brought her home. After he’d left with a gun to get rid of the beast, and hadn’t let Alex follow him. 

Jeremiah had been gone for two days, and Alex had raged, she’d cried, she’d wanted her own chance to glimpse the beast that consumed so much of her father’s time. 

But he left without her, and came back without any trace of the cryptid. He came back with a scrawny blond girl in his arms. And then a few months later, he burned all of the evidence he’d painstakingly gathered over  _ years.  _

Alex had watched from the window as the fire burned, and — and they were standing in the same place now, weren’t they? Alex turns around, and sure enough, she looks back at her old bedroom window. No light on up there, just a dark square window, she remembers putting her hand against the glass, almost feeling the heat of it. 

And Kara, rushing out to go and say something, but Alex had stopped her. 

But she’d known. She must have known. 

Alex turns to Kara now. She’s older now, they both are, and yet she looks just like that scared little twelve year old girl now, trying to tell Alex something with her eyes alone. 

“Kara,” Alex breathes, and the tears well up in Kara’s eyes, as she recognises the realisation as it passes over her face. “ _ Kara _ ,” 

Kara’s lower lip trembles, and she nods. “I had a reason, Alex. I couldn’t- he-“ 

She drags her in, and nearly crushes her in a hug, and she feels Kara hold onto her, the sobs wracking her body, she can do nothing but stare over her shoulder at the moon. 

All this time, she’d been looking for something right under her nose. She’d followed his path, too. Thrown away the evidence that could have lead to Sam. Disproved her own theories, to keep her safe. 

All that to protect someone she cared about. To protect an innocent, who was unable to control her true nature. 

Kara’s hands hold onto Alex’s shoulders, and she tries to speak between sobs, but it’s not all coherent, but Alex pieces it together. 

“He just wanted...  he wanted us to be safe. Me to be safe,” she shakes her head, clears her throat. “But... they... I...  _ some part of me  _ wanted to make things safe too. And those people, they went missing, and then Rick-“ 

The mere mention of the name, even years after high school, makes Alex shudder. But that is something she hadn’t looked into, because as far as she could remember Rick Malvern’s case had been an open and shut case. An animal attack-

_ Shit.  _

She abruptly pulls back, to see Kara’s eyes in the dim light, they now are more animal-like, reflecting the porchlight oddly, and she shakes, trembles, these uncontrollable little movements that seem to be intensifying the more she recounts. 

“He hurt you, and so I guess that’s why I made him leave... I didn’t want to kill him, Alex,“ the tremors in her voice have Alex’s heart rate rising, and she doesn’t know much about the wolves, but this can’t be good. 

“It wasn’t you, Kara,” she says, her hands coming to grip Kara’s arms, to hold her steady. The worry seeps into her voice- “Nobody thinks it was you, Kara. Nobody knows you were the cryptid...” 

The words don’t seem to be true to her own ears, even as she says it. They are foreign, bizarre, they should be unbelievable. 

But now that she’s put the pieces together, she’s amazed that she didn’t see it sooner. 

...and Sam was right. This was more than a valid reason to stay away from Midvale. 

“I never shift in the city,” Kara explains. “Something different there. Maybe I just can’t see the moon, or maybe it’s just  _ this place _ that makes it happen. I can fight it, a few months at a time, but eventually I have to come back home, because of the-,” 

“Lightheadedness? Memory loss? Sleepwalking?” 

"Sam's told you," 

“Kara, I can’t tell-“ 

“I sensed something different about her when we met,” Kara's words make Alex's defensiveness ease somewhat. “I could tell she wasn’t just... I’ve only ever met one other person like me, and that was Clark, when Dad took us to visit," 

Alex shakes her head, because  _ of course  _ there was a link there between Kara and her only relative, a cousin her father had found without any explanation... “Sam's the one who told me to give you a chance to explain. I think she knew about you already, even before I put it together,” 

They move from standing, to sitting, while Kara calms down. The blue glow to her eyes eventually fades, as the shakes subside. They don’t mind the damp grass. 

Especially Alex. 

Her mind now runs a replay of everything. Of missed birthdays, of Kara calling sick at work from time to time. For a while, when Alex still worked in National City, Kara would visit Midvale frequently. And Alex had resented her for it, cause it had felt like she was trying to show Alex up.

Each time, she would be jittery as she prepared to leave, and be  _ sure  _ to tell her that it was just to visit Eliza. Alex had taken it as a not-so-subtle jab. Now she realises that it was Kara’s attempt at making sure the truth was properly covered when she left to Midvale for the full moon. 

"I have something to ask of you," Alex says, after a long pause, and Kara nods. 

-

“Well however you girls sort yourselves out, that’s up to you,” is what Eliza says as she heads off to bed, and Kara's eyebrows shoot up to her head but she doesn't say anything when Alex heads off towards her room. She isn’t sure what she expects when she steps back inside her old bedroom, but it certainly isn’t Sam’s bare back towards her as the lithe woman slips into her pyjamas. 

And now she understands why Kara was looking all surprised at her. Could they sense each other through walls or something? She kind of wishes she'd given her a warning. 

She clears her throat, standing and staring isn't a good look. “You were right,” Alex says, and Sam looks over her shoulder as the shirt falls back into place. She must have known Alex had entered the room, because she isn't surprised at all.

“I don’t know if you were trying to get me in the mood, but you somehow accomplished to do just that with only three words,” Sam smirks, turning around to face her, and in any other situation, Alex would have been aroused by that little playful quirk to her lips. 

But now it feels like every nerve ending is buzzing for a different reason, she can’t keep her thoughts in line, she keeps connecting various parts of her past to the new narrative and it’s all fitting into place- “Sam,” 

Sam shakes her head, shakes out her long wavy hair with a hand, pushes it back out of her face with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. What was I right about?” 

“My sister,” Alex says, stepping closer. “You knew what she was?” 

“I may have had a hunch. I’m guessing I was right?” 

“You were,” 

They get ready for bed, and Alex always finds it surprising, how easy it is to fall into silence with her. Her mind is at ease tonight, as she gets ready for bed, the night's revelation has somehow made her feel more at peace than she's felt in months. 

Maybe even years. 

Sam rolls over onto her back, and stares at the little stars still affixed to the ceiling. It’s been years, decades even, but Eliza hasn’t taken them down. They don’t glow anymore. 

“Did you put those up there?” 

Alex settles into bed next to her, Sam feels the bed dip, feels the way her body slides in and fits perfectly next to her own, a hand resting on her stomach briefly before she settles with her head on the pillow next to her. 

“Yeah,” Her voice is a low murmur, and she chuckles to herself, a rich, almost calming sound? It’s odd, how her mind seems to settle in the presence of someone else. 

But this someone is Alex, and Alex is telling her now- “I stuck them to the ceiling, it took me hours, i had a star chart, tried to make it all line up perfectly to our hemisphere and everything. I guess I had a lot of free time,” 

Sam turns to look at her, and she’s not even staring at the stars, Alex as her head turned towards her, and their faces are only inches apart. A hand comes to Sam’s cheek, brushing away a few stray locks of hair, and Alex leans in for a chaste kiss to Sam’s lips. 

A goodnight kiss. It’s not meant to be anything more. 

Sam’s kisses are slow and warm, and she rolls on top of Alex, her weight gently pressing her into the mattress. 

Alex smiles up against her lips, and runs her hands through long hair. The sounds of their lips meeting and parting repeatedly seems to be impossibly loud, as do the rustle of sheets, the sounds of their breathing. 

They can’t get up to much, Sam breaks the kiss, rests her head alongside hers when she hears footsteps down the hall, and she takes a moment to catch her breath. The house is old, the doors don't block sound. 

Alex runs her hand over the softness of Sam’s cheek, just holds her there. Her closeness is enough to settle something in her chest, as she lies beside her in the dark, lit by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains, from the hallway light sneaking in through the crack beneath the door. 

There’s a promise in Sam’s eyes, her lips curve into a smile, and she lets her fingers trail along Alex’s abdomen one last time before she pulls her shirt down for her. 

“Another time,” She says, and her lips curve up into a crooked smile that makes Alex laugh. 

She slips her arms around the taller woman, and the way she folds into her feels right. “I’ll hold you to that,” 

-

Alex gets her to bundle up in all her layers, and drags her to the front yard just before dusk the next day. 

Things had been rather... Sam is reluctant to use the word  _ nice, _ but that's exactly how she'd describe it. Breakfast with the Danverses had involved eggs, hash browns, vegetables from the garden that Eliza had sauteed (and miraculously, her carnivore of a daughter had eaten them). There's still that awkward tension between herself and Kara, but whatever hostility had been between the sisters is now gone. 

Eliza corners her at one point, and Sam's heart picks up pace as her mind travels to the night before. She can't help but feel like a teenager caught sneaking around, but that is not remotely what Eliza is there to say to her. 

"I need a hand with some chores around the property, and Ruby's very kindly offered to help. I just wanted to ask you if that was okay," 

Sam blinks. "Wh- Ruby? My daughter?" this doesn't make sense, "She's  _ offered  _ to do chores?" 

A knowing smile spreads on Eliza's face, and she chuckles, "I'm guessing that's not a regular occurence. It won't be anything too dangerous, just some weeding, lifting a few things-" 

"Of course that's okay. Please," Sam shakes her head in disbelief, "Take her for as long as you need," 

"I know you girls are going out later as well, so I can watch her then. You don't have to worry." 

That sparks her confusion, and Eliza doesn't elaborate. She's about to ask Alex when she thinks she'd rather keep it a surprise for herself, and not let the other woman know she's suspicious. 

-

"I have something to show you," she says at around five, and there's a bit of excitement to her voice, something that gets Sam intrigued, despite her better judgement. 

The path to the beach isn't quite as easy to see, and Sam's a little clumsy, so Alex has to hold her hand as they walk. And she complains the entire time, huffing every time she looks up and nearly gets tripped by a dip in the earth, a stray clump of grass, a half-covered rock. 

"Why did you have to wait till late?" she complains, and Alex rolls her eyes. 

"Because," she says, and Sam thinks she's about to continue, but that's all her response is. 

"You know, that bed back there is nice and warm," She tempts, and Alex turns around with a roll of her eyes. 

"This isn't so bad, and it isn't even that late," 

"It's freezing, and it's going to be even  _ colder _ down there," 

"I'll warm you up." 

"Are you taking me down there to...?" 

"No!" Alex splutters, and Sam's eyebrows only rise higher. She holds up her hands, shaking her head. "I'm not taking you down there for us to... it's not because of that," 

"I know," Sam grins. "I'm messing with you." 

Alex scowls, and shoves her hands into the pockets, trudging forwards "Stop it," 

"You're cute when you're grumpy," 

She swivels her head around, and Sam's looking her up and down, her lower lip between her teeth. When Alex glares, her smirk only grows. "You're annoying. What's gotten into you? You're never this... frisky," 

"I made a promise that I intend to keep." 

"So you think that I'm taking you to the beach, as the sun's going down, so we can-..." 

"Well, there'd be nobody around to bother us," 

" _ Sam,"  _

"What? Don't you want to live a little?" 

"I want to end this conversation," 

"It'd be romantic," Sam muses after about three whole seconds of silence, and Alex wonders if it's possible to die from being flustered. "Stargazing on the beach. If you brought me down here another time, then maybe you'd get lucky," 

"Oh, so now it's a  _ maybe _ , when you're the one who assumed in the first place-" she snaps, and turns to see Sam putting on all the moves, trying to look seductive with a big woolen beanie, a scarf wrapped up almost all the way to her ears, and an oversized raincoat that shouldn't be as cute as it is. She can't hold back a laugh. "You'll get your fun eventually," 

They walk down a winding track, grooves worn down to the dirt, a vehicle track that winds and bends down an incline till Sam can taste the salt in the air. 

The waves are a lot less active here than it is in the small cove that Alex had brought her to before. "It's low tide," the woman muses to herself, glancing out at the expanse of bare sand, that seems to shimmer under the purpling sky. 

They begin to pick their way through twisted trees to get closer to the water, trunks curling over themselves from years of being battered by the wind. She can hear the rush of the waves, and Alex holds her hand tighter, making sure her footfalls are sure. 

She pauses after jumping a few feet down, and turns around to look at Sam, who is still holding her hand. 

Sam is sure that she can make the jump by herself, but she steps forward, steadies herself with hands on Alex's strong shoulders as Alex helps her down, sturdy hands on her hips. 

"Okay?" Alex asks, holding her for a moment longer as if they both aren't standing on sure ground. Sam wants to kiss the smile off her lips. 

She isn't sure why she doesn't. Alex's eyes flicker down, but then she's turning towards the path, leading Sam towards a break in the trees. 

She's always surprised at how  _ big  _ the sky feels out here. Especially now, staring out at a pastel coloured sky, the distant waves. The ocean is very,  _ very  _ far here, the surface of the sand hard-packed and a little on the coarse side. It's a distant presence, an echoing rush of waves that roll in, she hears a higher pitched hiss and glances down at the sand beneath her shoes, watches as the sand is picked up by the wind, dances on the currents of air before settling back over itself. 

Alex walks ahead of her, and she looks almost tiny in the scope of all of this. Sam herself feels small, smaller than she's ever felt, dwarfed by the endless ocean and the endless sky, the beach that stretches on either side. 

It's then that she spots a truck, parked in the sand of all places. It's rust-riddled and old, and she recognises the distinct blonde hair of Kara. 

She waves at them, and Alex waves back, starting to jog and she calls out- "You couldn't have parked a bit closer?" 

"Use those legs, lazy!" Kara shouts back. She's standing in the back of the truck, and she leaps off effortlessly, rushing around to get to the front of the truck. 

"Damn it," Alex breathes under her breath, and glances back at Sam apologetically. "Are you okay with sitting at the back?" 

She feels a smile tugging at her lips at the look in Alex's big brown eyes. "Sure, but I still don't know where we're going," 

Alex is kind enough to open the back door of the rusted truck- it takes a tug or two, but then she's gesturing for Sam to step in. The cushions are comfortable, albeit the fabric of the seats is a little bare, very worn. There's a distinct musty smell that has Kara desperately rolling down the windows. 

"We're going to the start of the National Park." Alex slams the door behind her, jamming the keys in the ignition and starting the old beast. She glances back at Sam with a smile, checking that she's okay perhaps. 

"And so we have to drive along the beach to do that?" It's all very confusing, feels a little odd, but she trusts Alex. 

It's the sister next to her that she isn't quite sure about, but she can't exactly read malicious intent in her eyes when she turns around, smiling wide. 

"I know a place to park, and it's a corner of the forest where nobody else really goes to, since there's no road," Kara pipes up, sticking her head around to smile at Sam. "I think we started off on the wrong foot." 

 

Alex drives, and the sand seems impossibly smooth under such a rickety old vehicle. Reality seems to melt as she rolls down her own window, glances outside at the pastel sky reflected in the damp sand, feels the salty breeze whip past her face. 

There's a loud shout, and she swivels her head to the front only to see that Alex is holding the wheel with one hand, the other now grabbing onto the back of Kara's sweatshirt, tugging her back down as the other woman sticks her head out of the window, blonde hair flailing about her face as she laughs. 

"Kara!" 

"I'm not going to fall out!" she swats at Alex's hand, her hands set on the frame of the window as she sticks her head out, letting out a joyous whoop that has Alex rolling her eyes and laughing despite herself. 

And she wonders about that part of herself that was so quick to judge Kara. There is  _ nothing  _ about her that should have tripped her up so much, nothing about her appearance, or the way she acts, that gives her reason to feel uncomfortable around her. 

_ But she does _ . 

She watches them both, as if from an outsider's perspective. Observes Alex's exasperation and the joy that Kara gets from carrying on in a free, almost childlike manner. Whooping and laughing and tilting her head up towards the sky.

Sam tries to look out the window again, but she spots Alex's eyes on her in the rearview mirror. Always asking without saying anything. 

Sam smiles. That seems to let her know that she's okay. 

They pile out of the truck not a few moments later. Alex goes around to the back to open the door for Sam, holds out her arm like the little jump down is something incredibly steep, and that makes her roll her eyes (but she takes her arm anyways, if only for the proud little smile on Alex's face when she feels useful). 

-

Something is beautiful about the twilight by the beach. 

This is a corner of Midvale that barely even is- it exists in the space between towns, but describing it as  _ liminal  _ doesn't seem to fit it, not really. 

She's never really felt closer to Kara than she does now. It's been  _ years _ of pain and heartbreak, but gathering driftwood from the shore almost feels familiar, nostalgic. 

It's been almost a decade, really. But now they're here again, and things are now a good kind of different. 

"You're planning on camping here?" Sam asks, bringing Alex back to the present. She's by their little cracking campfire, looking up at her with that furrow in her brow that hasn't quite gone away. "You took me out here to go camping? I didn't bring anything to sleep in," 

She hears Kara take a breath. Alex doesn't let her answer, she knows Sam is still unsettled by her- or Sam's  _ wolf  _ is unsettled by the presence of her. 

There are many ways she can do this, but in the dimming light, she decides that she should just be direct. "I'm going to sleep here, while you two go for a run, or whatever it is you wolves want to do." 

Sam's hands tense, she reels back, glancing at them both with a mix of emotions flickering over her face, her eyes wide. She's afraid- but as Kara stands up straighter, dropping the firewood she'd been carrying, something  _ clicks  _ in Sam's mind, and she herself gets up. 

"You're like-" her voice is barely able to be heard over the fire, over the sound of the waves. The smell of smoke curls and sticks in the back of Alex's throat as she holds her breath, watching orange light illuminate the amber of Sam's irises, an almost unnatural glow to them. " _ You're like me _ ," 

Kara's own eyes mirror her animalistic glow, but more of her own shade of blue-grey as she nods, the smile spreading slowly but surely on her face. "I've never met another wolf before." 

Sam's head swivels and she looks at Alex, in disbelief, shock,  _ gratitude.  _ "Alex,  _ Alex-"  _

_ " _ I know," She can't help it- she smiles too at the way Sam's entire body just relaxes, and then before she knows it Sam's falling to the ground- "Oh shit-" 

The white wolf tears through Sam's clothing, and Alex lowers the hand she'd already extended to help. The wolf looks at her first, shaking away the shreds of torn fabric from its body, before it turns its head to Kara, who is backing away, a slight tinge of fear in her eyes. 

But then her head turns back to the darkened sky, and her eyes settle on something that has Alex turning around. 

The moon, lazy clouds dragging across it. Not quite full, but not exactly waning either. 

As she looks back towards the fire, neither Sam or Kara are there. 

-

Alex waits, watching the fire. The night steadily grows colder, the waves lap at the shore, tired and quiet, as if the ocean itself has decided to sleep. The forest, the dark, dancing shadows of the trees that reach out to find home by the beach, they have never felt more  _ alive  _ than they do now, in the dark.

The warmth from the fire helps, the truck is only over there, she's got enough blankets, a thick enough sleeping bag to help her weather the night, but the desire to  _ know  _ is keeping her away. She isn't sure what happened, or where they went. They could be anywhere right now, and the uncertainty gnaws at her, the mystery makes her want to track into the woods- 

But Kara had told her not to. " _ It won't be me out there. It won't be Sam. The wolves are different, they don't listen to us, don't listen to reason."  _

She'd been happy to hear that her thoughts were confirmed, that the wolves really were a separate being to their human counterparts, but it had also triggered that little, stupid part of her brain that wanted to go out anyways, right into the face of danger. 

Sleep, although she desperately tries to avoid it, comes for her anyways. 

It's a lot later, when the fire is down, and she's fallen asleep sitting up — something about the rhythm of the waves perhaps, or the steady ebb and flow of the breeze through the leaves of the trees must do it — that she hears something that has every hair on the back of her neck standing up. 

It isn't just the chill.

She startles awake, a jolt running through her body, her eyes shoot open and panic sets in as her eyes adjust to the dark, only the dim coals of the fire in front of her. 

But then she hears it again, not quite able to figure out what it is, it is just on the edge of her hearing. Her breath comes out as a cloud of condensation in front of her, and she darts over to the pile of sticks they'd foraged, throwing a few on the fire in hopes to get a little flame going so she can see better. 

And - there it is again. 

Closer now. 

It's the sound of an animal, a wolf. A pair of wolves? The twigs on the coals catch, and the sudden swell of the fire brings shapes out of the shadows as the light dances over the trunks of nearby trees. 

The wolves are calling out, but not the long and solemn howls she would imagine. 

They were calling out to each other, something that Alex can only describe as dog-like,  _ jovial.  _ Playful. 

They are playing. Then there is the rustle of the leaves, the crashing through the trees, before she sees something burst from the treeline several feet in front of her. 

She can only just make out the colour of the fur as it darts within the circle of light from the fire, tinged gold and brown along its spine, the humongous wolf almost crashes face first into the sand, but its mouth is wide open, there's a lightness to the way it bundles itself back up, sprints towards the water. 

Then there is a more familiar silhouette. Long white fur and angular and almost graceful in the way it leaps effortlessly over the slight jump that the larger wolf had misjudged. That's Sam's wolf, she'd recognise her anywhere, the lanky legs that lope after the larger wolf. 

They don’t seem to notice her, so caught up in chasing each other towards the water, she stands perfectly still, frozen in place. 

And she's so enraptured by the display, that she almost-  _ almost  _ is startled by the third, and the  _ fourth  _ wolf that emerge from the bushes after them. Both just as large as the first, one with dark, almost midnight black fur, the other angular like Sam, but with dusty grey fur. 

Four wolves. 

_ Four  _ of them. 

She's so shocked, that she laughs. She  _ laughs,  _ because there's no other way for her to react, there's no other way for her to process all that's going on inside her right now. She laughs, because her father had been  _ right  _ all this time. There was a cryptid in the woods of Midvale. 

But he'd also been so wrong. There was never just  _ one _ . 

- 

Something wakes Sam up. 

And she’s not sure of what she’s feeling, what she’s seeing at first. But she feels  _ content _ , and the sun is warm on her face, and she’s resting her head in Alex’s lap as she laughs at something someone says. 

She can see the sun as it rises over the ocean in false colour, feels the presence of more than just Alex, but she knows these others, they feel like home, even though nowhere — and nobody — has ever truly felt like  _ home  _ before. 

She lets herself be drawn back into the darkness. 

The real world can wait a little longer. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so it's been a while! but i'm still here, haven't abandoned this :P

**Author's Note:**

> i can't wait to go on this journey with all of you
> 
> *oh yes, also if you'd like to have a chat, i'm also daskey on tumblr


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